Arc of Fire

Chapter 738: Chapter 76 General Rocossov Leads Us in the Charge

The guerrillas panicked at the sound of tank engines and gearboxes.

"Wasn’t it said that the Prosen tanks were all but depleted?”

"Incendiary bombs, quick, get the incendiary bombs!”

The clerics from the underground parish loudly reassured everyone, “Don’t panic! According to the intelligence we’ve obtained, the Prosen armored troops have long been depleted, retreating across the Dibo River, and they won’t be coming back!

"This is either our armored troops, or it’s factory workers somewhere who have modified tractors to serve as tanks!”

Argesukov is an important industrial city in Kazakhstan, and since it fell early, many workers hadn’t managed to evacuate.

...

Although the Prosenians took most of what machinery was left back to their country, it wasn’t difficult for the workers to hand-craft soil tanks from tractors.

Everyone turned their heads to see a strangely shaped “tank” roll into the square, which surprisingly lacked a tank gun on the front!

Several infantrymen, all dressed in Ante Army uniforms, were sprawled on the peculiar tank.

Most importantly, a Red Flag was hanging on the antennae of the tank.

The Red Flag!

Every Antean, who had ever listened to the broadcasts from Yeburg in secret or passed around the newspapers dropped by planes, knew that the Red Flag was first raised by Rocosov and that it signified “comrades who once bled on the battlefield.”

People were already shouting, “The Red Flag!”

"It’s the Red Flag!”

"Rocossov’s troops have broken through!”

The tank charged straight toward the Municipal Building.

The Prosen anti-tank guns fired, but the shell was simply deflected off the sloping front armor of the tank.

An officer on the tank pointed at an old lady in front of the main entrance to the Municipal Building, prompting two infantrymen to jump off, toss smoke bombs, and charge forward to knock the old lady to the ground.

Luckily, the Prosen machine gunners were too shocked by the sudden appearance of the tank to continue firing, otherwise the old lady would have likely been lost right there.

Continuing its advance, the tank plowed through the smokescreen, knocked down the railing of the fountain in front of the Municipal Building, and shattered the statue in the middle of the fountain. The water supply system was still operating, and after the statue broke, powerful streams gushed out, striking the tank’s undercarriage and spewing out from both sides of the tracks.

A mist of water sprayed around the sides of the tank, forming a rainbow in the sunshine’s glow.

Finally, the tank stopped.

The general on the tank gave a tap on the hatch.

Then a “Novae” rocket, trailing thick smoke, soared into the sky.

The priest, watching the Novae, subconsciously said, “That’s the star of victory!”

He watched as the “star of victory” slammed into the Municipal Building.

The blast’s bright flash momentarily outshone the brightness of the sun, the shockwave cleared away the water mist created by the tank, and then slapped onto everyone’s faces. ṝἈＮՕ₿Еᶊ

Those not sheltered behind cover were knocked to the ground.

Various shards rattled against the walls, as if a heavy rain had suddenly descended.

As the shock from the blast wind subsided, the priest looked toward the Municipal Building, only to see a rising sphere of light.

The priest dashed out of cover, shouting, “General Rocossov himself has come to liberate us! Hoorah!”

His words were immediately echoed by everyone, “General Rocossov has come to liberate us!”

"General Rocossov has arrived!”

"General Rocossov himself is leading the charge!”

"Come on, follow the general!”

No one cared about the distortion of information as it spread; everyone burst out of cover and charged toward the rising sphere of light.

Some caught sight of the Red Flag on the tank and became even more convinced: With the Red Flag here, the general must be as well!

—

Yegorov lay behind a tank, watching the ascendant sphere of light and laughing heartily, “Good! You and your shelters are equally laughable!”

At that moment, all around him were cries of “Hoorah,” with others shouting, “General Rocossov himself is leading the charge!”

Yegorov was startled, “The Division Commander has arrived?”

He hurriedly scanned his surroundings.

"Where is the Division Commander?”

By then, the uprising soldiers had overrun the tank, with some saluting Yegorov, “General! My respects to you!”

Yegorov was still confused, “Ah? Uh

He was indeed a general, but something seemed off.

More people headed to the already crumbling Municipal Building, skewering the surviving Prosen soldiers one by one with bayonets.

Everyone passing by the tank would shout, “Salute to you, General Yegorov!”

Yegorov was also stunned. He could only respond, “Ah, salute to you, salute to all of you!”

Finally, someone wearing a cleric’s armband ran up to the Urban Assault Gun and slapped the side armor, “General Rocosov, the enemy is still resisting elsewhere. They need your support!”

Yegorov pointed to himself, “Me? I’m not, am I?”

Priest: “It doesn’t matter if you are or not; you’re flying the Red Flag! I’ll be your guide. Let’s hurry and take down the other strongholds. Argesukov is bleeding!”

Yegorov: “Alright, you lead the way! Wait, where is the enemy headquarters?”

The priest pointed to the ruined Municipal Building, “Right here, the City Defense Command, also the division headquarters of the Prosen Garrison’s most experienced division.”

Yegorov said to the Urban crewmembers nearby who were loading shells, “Use the radio to report back to the Corps Command that we have taken out the enemy’s City Defense Command; the enemy is headless now. Ignore the previous battle plans and push forward into the city with full force. The enemy can’t handle street fighting with us!”

Priest: “Street fighting? No, we’ve already driven most of the enemy out of the alleys, only some combat engineers are still resisting.”

Yegorov: “Arrange a guide immediately to take our combat squads to deal with those combat engineers!”

"Don’t worry, the whole city will be your guide!”

Filippov was leading his squad through the city.

A recruit in the squad couldn’t help asking, “Major, I heard that before you left Argesukov, you stayed at General Rocosov’s estate?”

Filippov: “Yes, the city was full of troops at the time, so we had to stay at General Rocosov’s estate. We even met General Rocosov’s father.”

"What was he like?”

"Just like the general. They’re cut from the same cloth,” said Filippov.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps ahead and quickly raised his hand, making a fist. The entire squad of Guards crouched down, holding their guns and aiming in different directions—a set of tactical gestures also designed by General Rocosov that had been spontaneously promoted by the veterans because it was so effective.

Soon, an old lady ran out of the alley. Seeing Filippov and his team, she shouted, “Come quickly! There are Prosenians resisting over here! Looks like some combat engineers! And there is an armored vehicle too!”

Filippov: “Don’t worry, ma’am. We have new Rocket Launchers; armored vehicles are no big deal for us. Lead the way!”

"This way!” The old lady waved her hands repeatedly, leading the way.

Filippov made a gesture, and the whole team stood up to follow the old lady.

As the old lady led the way, she muttered, “You’re finally back! The Prosenians said you’d never come back when they first occupied us that year. Told us to ‘live on as part of the Empire.’

"But then in the winter, they suddenly stopped saying that and began catching people with radios like crazy. Every day they’d execute hundreds of people for secretly keeping radios and playing news of victory for everyone!

"Back then, those yellow dogs—locals who acted as their police—would go around with the Prosenians searching for radios.

"By last year, the Prosenians stopped searching for radios, and the yellow dogs behaved—most behaved. Those who didn’t were silenced by the guerrilla fighters!

"But last summer, the Prosenians tensed up again, and lots of Prosenian soldiers wearing necklaces came

Filippov: “Those are Constitutional Guards; the necklace is derived from breastplates.”

"The Constitutional Guards were killing people everywhere! So many good people from the guerrilla teams were killed, and many priests were hanged too! Enemy ahead! Do you hear the machine-gun fire?”

Filippov pulled the old lady behind him, took a few steps forward, and crouched to look out from the alley entrance. Indeed, he saw a half-track vehicle firing away, and there were also people shooting from the nearby houses.

Filippov turned and whispered orders, “The enemy hasn’t noticed us yet. Rocket Launcher operators aim at the half-track vehicle first. Do not fire. We’ll approach stealthily, using the silent rifles to take down the enemy as quietly as possible.”

"Yes,” replied the Guards warriors in unison.

Filippov: “I’ll go out first, you all follow me.”

With that, he crawled out of the alley, hunching over, and the others followed immediately, skillfully fanning out across the street.

Rocket Launcher operators and their assistants found good positions, aimed at the still-firing half-track vehicle.

Filippov fired first.

His bullets took down two combat engineers.

The enemy had no time to react. After all, the silent rifle’s sound was too soft to notice in this situation.

The warriors opened fire, taking down more than a dozen enemy soldiers in an instant. One of them wasn’t dead, and as he fell, he shouted, “Arau!”

The enemy finally noticed the squad.

The half-track vehicle immediately turned its gun, but a fiery dragon struck it.

The vehicle’s engine burst into flames, and the Machine Gunner jumped out, rolling on the ground.

Filippov had already rushed to a distance where he could throw grenades, drew back his arm, and threw a grenade straight into the second-floor window.

At the same time, several other grenades were thrown, followed by a series of explosions, and the entire stronghold fell silent.

Filippov rushed to the window, changing magazines and looking inside from the window’s edge, “Clear!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, his teammates kicked in the door and rushed in with their guns.

At that moment, several Guerrilla fighters rushed to Filippov, “You’re finally here! These combat engineers killed more than twenty of us and wounded dozens!”

Filippov: “They won’t hurt you anymore. Not anymore.”

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