Arc of Fire

Chapter 712: Chapter 50 Return Home

July 9, at 2 a.m., the heart of the Empire of Prosen, Eagle’s Nest.

When the attendant pushing the dining cart reached the door to the Emperor’s office, he was taken aback.

A group of marshals and generals upon hearing the rattling of the dining cart turned their heads in unison, staring at the attendant.

"Uh,” the boy was somewhat intimidated, but the position of Imperial Palace Attendant was secured through much effort by his family, and he couldn’t afford any missteps, so he mustered his courage and said, “The head court chef asked me to bring late-night snacks, and the royal physician believes that Your Majesty must eat.”

The marshals and generals remained unmoved, merely staring at the boy.

Just as the boy’s courage was about to falter, a red-haired young general approached, took the cart from the boy’s hands, “I’ll handle this, I’ll try to get His Majesty to eat as much as possible, but under the current circumstances, it might be necessary to ask His Imperial Sister to intervene. Anyway, you go and rest.”

The attendant, feeling somewhat embarrassed, replied, “I still have a lot of work, my shift doesn’t end until six in the morning.”

"Then go do your work,” said the red-haired general.

Giles pushed the dining cart towards the generals, “Gentlemen, it’s been a long time since you’ve eaten as well, please have some.”

Marshal Rundstedt hesitated, “Is this appropriate? Isn’t this His Majesty’s late-night snack?”

Giles replied, “His Majesty is here, he would share these waffles with everyone.”

The generals and marshals then started picking up the waffles, eating while conversing softly among themselves.

Marshal Rundstedt, “Honestly, I’m not sure if initiating the attack according to plan would lead to a better outcome than now. Rokossov’s technical weapons were already in place; if we attack, he could delay us with his Guards Infantry and well-built fortifications.”

Celtic Marshal nodded, “The Armored Troops actually lost in the skirmish, which was not seen last year.”

General Moochi immediately frowned upon hearing this, “The enemy has a numerical advantage, but our overall exchange rate is still superior. Facing Ante Troops equipped with T34s, we had a three-to-one exchange rate, and most of our crew successfully evacuated the conflict zone on tank transporters!

"Meanwhile, Antean armored fighters suffered heavy casualties because their T34 crews are poorly designed, too cramped; a single shell penetrates, killing half the crew on average! Whereas for us, frequently if we’re penetrated, only one dies, one gets wounded.”

Celtic Marshal, “Really? Then should I reduce the reinforcements for the Armored Troops and allocate more high-quality recruits to air defense and fighter squads?”

Marshal Mayer immediately perked up, “Sir Arland, my Fighter Corps Director, would thank you. Recently the enemy bombers have been escorted by fighter squads, and my boys are suffering heavy losses.”

General Moochi hesitated for a moment, sighed, “Alright, our losses have indeed increased recently, but that’s due to the increasing appearance of ‘Whirlwind’ Tank Destroyers on the front line! Our tactical advantage over the Anteans is still overwhelming.

"According to captured Antean soldiers, recruits replenished to Antean armored units have only sixty hours of driving experience and less than three months of training. The Anteans treat such technical branches as expendable!”

Marshal Rundstedt reminded the Armored Corps Director, “We’re not discussing whether our armored units or the enemy’s are better in tactics and techniques. We are discussing our losses.

"The truth is, no matter how much you, General Moochi, stress our excellent exchange rate, the enemy has worn us down, exhausted us. Damn it, do Antean tanks and soldiers grow out of the ground?”

Celtic Marshal, “The Allied Forces have supplied them with a lot of machine tools and production lines, and helped to train their workers too. Federation’s weaponry has also entered the war directly; we’ve destroyed many Federation trucks and Willys Jeeps, capturing quite a few.”

Rundstedt, “And our allies only send submarines asking for technical equipment; the navy even thought their submarines had advanced technology to travel such distances, excitedly preparing to use their technology to build oceanic submarines for attacks on the Federation’s homeland.

"Turns out!”

The Marshal shook his head, evidently not wanting to continue.

During the navy’s inspection of Fusang Empire’s submarines, they were overwhelmed by the foul stench aboard; the Fusang Empire had no new technology, their ability to travel long distances was purely due to their sailors’ endurance.

This news had already spread through the senior officers as a joke.

Sometimes it was also sarcastically used against the Emperor and cabinet members, as the alliance with the Fusang Empire was a direct result of the Emperor’s efforts, heavily promoted by the Minister of Propaganda and Minister of Foreign Affairs.

Now the Fusang Empire keeps boasting about their many victories, but classified information from “friendly countries” in South America received by the higher-ups of Prosen suggests the Fusang Empire is in trouble.

Over the past year, they had to retreat from several islands, and their once miraculous aircraft carrier squadrons were no longer prestigious.

Just last year, the Fusang Empire was still boasting about reaching the Suez Canal to meet up with Prosen, which was rather remarkable.

Perhaps remembering this unreliable ally, the officers present all fell silent.

Eventually, Marshal Rundstedt broke the silence, “We can’t keep waiting, we should have the Southern Army Group retreat towards Shepetovka, splitting the Army Group into battle groups A and B to set up defensive positions along the Dibo River.

"With that, we might have a chance to stop the Anteans’ advance with the Dibo River, especially as our infantry units from the Southern Army Group haven’t suffered too much.”

Celtic Marshal nodded, “Last year, we managed to erect fortifications on the west bank of the Dibo River; they should hold off the Anteans until the river freezes.”

General Moochi also chimed in, “This way our supply lines will be shorter too, backed by the capital of Kazarlia, Argesukov, which has been troubling us with its supply issues, can now be resolved easily.”

Rundstedt immediately said, “Then I’ll count on General Moochi to persuade His Majesty.”

General Moochi looked at Giles, “Clearly there is a more suitable candidate for this task.”

Giles nodded, “I’ll talk to him.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the doors to the Emperor’s office opened, and Wagner’s famous piece “Ride of the Valkyries” spilled out from the room.

The Emperor himself walked out of his office to the stirring melody, his expression and demeanor, along with his movements, reminding everyone of six months ago when he had agreed to full mobilization.

"Can the Central Army Group hold the front line?” the Emperor asked.

Marshal Rundstedt immediately replied, “Certainly, Your Majesty. The troops of the Western Front Army are not as elite as Rocossov’s troops, nor do they have the blasted Rokossovsky Type heavy tanks, but the Armored Troops we’ve pulled from the Southern Army Group have plugged all the breakthrough points.”

Celtic Marshal immediately added, “We estimate that the Western Front Army has suffered at least a million casualties in the past two weeks (this is Prosen’s estimate, actual numbers are much less); they can no longer achieve a decisive victory.”

"Of course, they’ve still taken some minor salients, but it’s not too big of an issue.”

The Emperor nodded slightly, “At least we’ve held the central part of the front line. Now we need to think about defending at the Dibo River, waiting for our new recruits to finish their training, waiting for us to come up with a design for a tank that surpasses Ante’s new tanks!”

The generals present all breathed a sigh of relief.

Until just now, they had been worried that His Majesty was insisting on his own views.

The Emperor said, “What is that expression for? Am I such a person incapable of assessing the situation?”

"No, we didn’t mean that at all.”

The Emperor hummed and said to the Celtic Marshal, “Draft the orders, I will sign them.”

The Marshal immediately turned and strode away briskly.

Giles said, “Your Majesty, the supper is here, the royal physician and head chef are quite worried about you

"Hmm, bring it in. And there are waffles, share them out, today has been a tough day for all of us.”

The Emperor of Prosen sighed deeply.

July 9, 0300 hrs, Headquarters of the 63rd Infantry Army Group.

"General, the commander of the Guard First Heavy Breakthrough Artillery Division supporting us has arrived,” said the Army Group Chief of Staff, stepping aside.

The burly artillery division commander saluted Admiral Eugene, “General! It’s an honor to fight alongside General Rocossov’s old subordinates!”

Admiral Eugene returned the salute, “I’ve heard about your exploits in Abawahan, it’s not easy for artillery to earn the Guards title!”

"We just keep firing away, it’s all manual labor, but you all are the ones who truly command respect.” The division commander paused, somewhat puzzled, “When I came in just now, I saw your expression was somewhat somber, has something happened?”

Admiral Eugene shook his head, “Nothing’s wrong, everything’s normal. I’m just… never mind, don’t worry about it.”

Chief of Staff Andrei said, “General’s home is right in our assault direction, a day’s drive from here.”

"What? You’re from the Basque Mining Area?” the division commander asked in surprise.

"I was the mining chief at Mine No. 3, my original forces were composed of mining worker militias from the Guardian Army, we were reorganized into regular forces upon meeting the General.” Admiral Eugene walked to the window, looking towards the northeast.

The division commander saluted Admiral Eugene again, “By the end of today, your hometown will be liberated!”

The Admiral looked at him and nodded slightly, “On behalf of those comrades who can never return home, thank you.”

At that moment, the phone rang.

Chief of Staff Andrei picked it up, “63rd Infantry Army Group. Yes, they’ve arrived. Understood, rest assured, Commander Davarish.”

After hanging up, Andrei told the division commander of the Guard First Heavy Breakthrough Artillery, “Enter your positions, prepare for battle.”

"Understood, we’ve already been in position, just waiting to open fire.”

Admiral Eugene said, “Do one last check, go ahead, Major General Davarish, see you in Plosonia.”

"See you in Plosonia!”

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