Arc of Fire

United Kingdom, Royal Navy HMS Warspite Battleship.

Lord Cunningham, the fleet’s deputy commander, put down his telescope and watched with the naked eye as the explosion formed a mushroom cloud.

People on the Cambridge were nervously looking for the direction of the gunfire—they subconsciously thought it was the handiwork of a main gun from a large Elector-class warship.

Lord Cunningham, "No need to search anymore, this is a Prosen remote-controlled bomb. The Ante Army has already experienced it and even captured an unexploded bomb. The Royal Academy of Sciences has completed the jamming device, but it’s still being tested."

The first officer exclaimed in shock, "What do we do now?"

"Have the destroyers release smoke. This thing is a paper tiger; it must be visually guided by the operator. Once the smoke obscures the view, it is just a regular bomb."

After Lord Cunningham issued his command, the destroyers began releasing smoke, with one G-class destroyer rushing to the windward direction of the Warspite and starting to release smoke.

At that moment, the telephone rang. The captain of the Warspite picked up the phone, gave two responses, and then reported to the Lord, "The anti-air observation post saw enemy planes turning back, heading 171!"

Lord Cunningham, "Hard to port! The Anteans’ report said that the bomb’s tracking range isn’t long. Full speed ahead!"

The helmsman began to frantically turn the steering wheel, while the third officer, while repeating the command and shouting "Full speed ahead," turned the engine order telegraph to the full-speed-ahead position.

Seconds later, the telegraph bell rang, and the pointer followed the lever to the full-speed-ahead position, indicating the engine room had received the command.

The Lord gripped the handrail inside the bridge, and others also grabbed onto anything they could around them.

Only the helmsman was still frantically turning the wheel, until it clanged and wouldn’t turn any further.

The helmsman shouted, "We’re hard to port!"

As he shouted, he also grasped the wheel firmly.

At that moment, the deck beneath everyone’s feet began to tilt.

The first officer, staring at the inclinometer, yelled, "Five degrees inclination!"

As he was yelling, the needle on the inclinometer raced toward 10 degrees; the old Warspite was turning with all her might.

A G-class destroyer with the pennant number H91 crossed the Warspite’s course, and the smoke pouring from its funnel directly obscured most of the view from the bridge.

The first officer cried out, "Fifteen degrees inclination!"

Lord Cunningham, "Steady the helm!"

The helmsman began furiously turning the wheel again.

But the entire ship remained tilted because it wasn’t a simple task for such a large battleship to change course.

Dozens of seconds after the helmsman started turning the wheel, the deck’s tilt began to reduce.

Lord Cunningham hadn’t had time to breathe a sigh of relief when a shout came through the voice tube from the anti-air lookout, "The second one is coming! I see the second one!"

Lord Cunningham, "The pom-poms fire! If they can’t take it down, disturbing its flight path is also good!"

The sound of anti-air guns firing soon came from outside the bridge.

Lord Cunningham himself rushed out of the Cambridge, standing on the side lookout platform, looking up at the thing that could send the fleet flagship away in a moment.

Just as he thought this, something fell less than one cable (a nautical distance unit, one cable is 185 meters) away from the right side of the Warspite, and the water splash looked like that from a 4-inch gun explosion—

Just then, a large splash of water rose from the sea and spouted upwards.

The shockwave from the water reached the captain, causing the deck to tremble as if in a frenzy.

The seawater turned into a heavy rain, falling on Lord Cunningham.

He didn’t care about that and turned to ask, "What’s the situation? Any signs of leaking?"

Ordinary people might think that a bomb explosion at a 200-meter distance wouldn’t affect a ship much, but Cunningham was an old sailor; he knew that the shockwaves traveled farther in water and with greater force. Even an explosion 200 meters away could damage the hull and cause leakage.

Depth charges could attack submarines for the same reason; an explosion of a depth charge more than a hundred meters away could also damage a submarine.

First Officer, "Damage control is checking now, there seem to be no issues so far, just some leakage in the pipes."

Lord Cunningham wiped off his cold sweat; the first wave had been navigated.

At that moment, from the observation post beside Lord Cunningham, a sailor yelled, "Look!"

Following the direction the sailor pointed, Lord Cunningham saw the front half of the HMS Queen Elizabeth Battleship, which had been split in two, rise high and then plunge down into the water.

Stuff kept on falling from the ship, lots of which, upon close inspection, were live humans.

From the observation deck, a sailor exclaimed in a low voice, "Good Lord, people are dropping like trash."

Just as the Lord was about to respond, another sailor pointed to the sky and shouted, "Look up!"

Expecting another remote-controlled bomb, the Lord looked up only to see countless contrails surging towards the Prosen squadron in the sky—the Royal Air Force had finally arrived!

Cheering erupted everywhere on the HMS Warspite, from the anti-aircraft gun deck to the searchlight deck to the launch deck—everyone was cheering.

Lord Cunningham turned his head and ordered his deputy officer, "Send our regards to the Royal Air Force. And then, have the fleet continue the task of bombarding the Prosen forces outside the city."

"Yes, sir!"

---

Admiral Erwin Rommel pursed his lips and frowned as he watched the Royal Navy Fleet at sea.

At this moment, the communications staff reported, "The Air Force says that the Royal Air Force sent planes from nearby Rocca airfields. They’re questioning why we haven’t occupied all the airfields."

Erwin Rommel could no longer contain his anger, "Because I need supplies! Without taking Alexandria, I have no supplies! How can I clear the airfields further east?"

Communications staff, "So... is that the response I should send?"

"No," Erwin took a deep breath, "just reply to the Air Force like this: Thank you for your support. Your support has provided a precious half-hour firepower gap; we have penetrated the city and are now engaged in close-quarters combat with the United Kingdom Army. Also, please do not bomb the harbor with horizontal bombers tomorrow, especially the harbor warehouses. We desperately need the supplies in there. That’s all. Repeat it back to me!"

The communications staff wrote down the last word, then recited it loudly.

Erwin waved his hand.

The communications staff left swiftly.

The Admiral continued to watch the fleet, which kept firing volleys, and cursed, "How much ammunition do these ships have? They’ve been bombarding for so long and still haven’t run out of ammo?"

Chief of Staff, "I hear when the Navy engages in battle, it might go on for a whole day, with night warfare as well, and continue the second wave the next day. They must’ve brought a lot of ammunition."

Admiral Erwin cursed again, "Our tanks’ ammo would have run out if we fired for a whole day. Why didn’t the United Kingdom’s fat man actually build a cruising battleship on land?"

The Chief of Staff could only offer a bitter smile.

---

Capital of the Mamluk Empire, under the control of the United Kingdom and the Mamluk Kingdom Army.

General Bernard Law Margo assured the King of Mamluk, "They absolutely cannot take Alexandria. We’ve got a large number of troops in the city, including the fearless Gurkha soldiers, and the Royal Navy’s Marine Corps as well.

"Moreover, we are deploying Commando special forces tonight to execute a decapitation strike on General Erwin, who is highly regarded by the Plathen Emperor, and to blow up his supplies! The headless Prosen Army in Africa will crumble at the first touch!"

The King of Mamluk was a massive man, almost 400 pounds, who, it was said, never stopped eating. He was currently both munching on a chicken leg and listening to General Margo.

Only after the General finished speaking did the king reluctantly remove the chicken leg from his mouth to ponder, then said with a mouthful of grease, "Um, very good! Since the enemy can’t take Alexandria, does that mean we don’t have to relocate our capital? Can I tell my court manager to stop moving my gold and treasures?"

General Margo frowned, "You’ve started moving your gold and treasures?"

The rotund king shrugged—his size made the gesture seem momentous—"Just in case. I have quite a lot."

General Margo, "Does this include the treasures of Mamluk? Like mummies and such?"

"Ah, those. They’ve all been taken by the Carolingians and the United Kingdom. We only have some stone tablets left. Have you forgotten?" the king retorted.

General Margo felt a bit embarrassed, "Well, that was for safekeeping."

"Yes, yes, safekeeping our artifacts, safekeeping our canals—the support of a powerful nation like the United Kingdom is truly comfortable!" the portly king replied sincerely.

General Margo suddenly didn’t want to continue the conversation any longer. He said, "Then I will continue taking care of military matters. If you have any needs, please direct them to the governor."

With that, he didn’t wait for the king’s response, saluted, and left the sumptuous hall.

Outside, the hot winds from the desert hit General Margo’s face, causing him to break out in a thin sweat immediately.

His deputy officer waited outside, standing up as soon as he saw Margo walking out, "General, the Division Commander of the Seventh Armored Division is waiting for you at Headquarters."

Margo nodded, "Good, the Prosens are certainly weary by now. Once they break into the city and get entangled with the Marine Corps and the Gurkhas for a day or two, we’ll be ready for the counterattack. We must ensure that the ’Desert Fox’ meets his downfall this time."

General Margo took a deep breath and turned to look at the sky—mirages had appeared, allowing him to clearly see the Sphinx and the Pyramids of Giza far away in Rocca’s outskirts.

General Margo, staring at the mirage, said, "Who would’ve thought we’d also resort to using Ante’s Rocossov’s tactics, using space and supply distance to wear down Prosen’s combat power. It’s unpleasant, like admitting Prosens are a superior race."

Deputy Officer, "But in the end, we will win. The one who wins in the end is the superior person, aren’t they?"

Margo thought for a moment and then laughed, "You’re right, the Prosens might be good fighters, but in the end, if we win, that means we are superior. Let’s go to Headquarters." Experience tales at empire

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