CANNON FIRE ARC

Chapter 786: Chapter 34 Starting Point (6K)

Several days passed.

September 30, 916, Wang Zhong saw Ronez City through his telescope.

Pavlov also came along, and after putting down the telescope, he sighed, “More than two years ago I had fully expected to die in Ronez City. After all, at that time we were in total collapse, with allied forces either scattering and running back in madness or surrendering en masse.

“I thought the order you issued to attack westward was to let us die with dignity.”

Wang Zhong: “I just played the reverse logic game, it worked mainly because the Prosens were too rigid.”

Actually, the main reason for the success was because they had an external aid, exploiting the “gap” left by the enemy’s overly rapid advance, squeezing through it.

…

Pavlov: “Now that I think about it, it really was a matter of life and death, sitting on a captured truck, driving with the headlights on through enemy ranks, the operation itself was remarkable. If just one Prosen had looked at us one more time, they might have realized we were not wearing their grey uniforms.”

The uniform color of Ante’s army significantly differed from the Prosens’, making it distinguishable even at night. That day, it was indeed the case that not a single Prosen suspected the convoy coming from the direction of the “motherland,” with headlights on, was the enemy.

Vasily marveled, “It’s such a pity, I wasn’t there for such a thrilling event!”

Wang Zhong patted his shoulder: “Be content, if you had been there, your grave grass might be one meter tall by now.”

Having said this, he turned and walked towards the Jeep parked at the bottom of the hill: “We will follow the original route from back then, first circling around to the enemy’s supply station to the west, then turning our heads into the city.”

“How ceremonious,” remarked Popov, “Journalist Mike and his cameraman partner must be thrilled.”

Journalist Mike spread his hands: “In fact, the headlines I’ve written lately have lost their appeal because the content is repetitive, all about you visiting places where you’ve fought in the past, reminiscing, and then declaring victory.

“The readers are tired of it. I think, to reignite the readers’ interest, we’ll need a dose of the blood-pumping revenge narrative that our Federation citizens love.

“It would be best if we could capture the Prosen Officer who let you go back then, or one of your defeated subordinates, having an impassioned dialogue, to regain the readers’ attention.”

Wang Zhong: “You might as well have us take up western swords and have a duel like knights.”

Journalist Mike was overjoyed: “That would be fantastic!”

Fantastic my ass! Wang Zhong had no experience in cold-weapon combat at all, but the old Junkers of Prosen certainly did; unless he suddenly obtained a cavalry hacking edge, there would be no match.

Journalist Mike laughed happily: “Actually, I would recommend a duel with the Federation-made Smith and Wesson revolver; readers would absolutely love it.”

Wang Zhong: “Are the main readers of your newspaper primarily in states like Texas?”

“Not entirely, sold quite well in the Rust Belt too,” Journalist Mike replied.

Got it, your newspaper will support garbage truck driver Donald Trump in the future.

As Wang Zhong joked, he approached the Jeep.

Grigori, sitting in the driver’s seat, saw him coming, put out his cigarette, and started the car.

Wang Zhong got into the car and urged without waiting for others to get in, “Move out.”

The Sergeant floored the accelerator, and Pavlov’s voice caught up, “Don’t rush, this area was an enemy-occupied zone until the day before yesterday; there might be landmines or stray guerrillas!”

Wang Zhong simply waved his hand.

The Jeep proceeded along the road, and after a while, Wang Zhong reacted, asking Grigori: “This is the highway we escaped on overnight back then, right?”

“Yes, General, you even remember!” Grigori exclaimed, “I recall that you were dazed from your injuries at that time, weren’t you?”

Wang Zhong: “As a general, no matter how bad the situation is, one must remember the way. But I almost didn’t recognize it, after all, conditions were terrible back then, and although we had our headlights on as we moved forward, but—”

He suddenly stopped speaking because he saw a luxuriantly leafy big tree, and the branches were laden with corpses.

“Stop!” he shouted.

The vehicle quickly slowed to a halt beside the big tree.

Wang Zhong stood up and asked the local beneath the tree, “What about the bodies hanging from this big tree?”

“Traitors!” The local grinned broadly and said, “The Judge came with his men, dragged them out, house by house, and hanged them all, no matter the gender.”

Wang Zhong looked up at the tree of corpses, which from a distance could be mistaken for a Christmas tree.

The local continued, “General, don’t feel sorry for them, before you came, this tree was used to execute guerrillas, all those fine young men betrayed by these traitors, they got what they deserved!

“Take this one, he was crying his eyes out when the Judge caught him, kept repeating ‘I know I’m wrong’, and the Judge said: ‘It’s not that you know you’re wrong, it’s that you know you’re going to die.’

“If you ask me, death is too good for them; they should have experienced all the tortures the Prosens used on our lads, then let them die.”

Having said that, the local spat at the corpses hanging from the tree.

Wang Zhong: “Good, just let them hang there. But won’t it spread disease?”

“Not gonna hang for too long.” The local smiled showing his teeth, “Soon there will be another batch delivered, and by then these will all be cremated, their ashes scattered on the nearby land. The parish priest said that the Marshal, who led them, likes planting flowers on this kind of ground, and the ashes of these people will make the flowers especially beautiful.”

Wang Zhong smiled.

Vasily said from the side: “‘At this moment, Marshal Rocosov silently made up his mind to add some more recognizable elements to the monotonous Marshal’s epaulets.’”

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