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Wang Zhong, with his lean command team, was waiting on the platform at Lokhtov Train Station for the guests scheduled to arrive today.

The guards and logistical personnel on the station platform were all tense, after all, a brigadier general was here.

The brigadier general, formerly known as a brigade general, was renamed after the civil war to align with international standards, adopting the United Kingdom’s usage of the term.

There were only five people beside Brigadier General Wang Zhong.

The first was Colonel Ivan Panzhelayevich Yegorov, the commander of the 31st Imperial Guard Infantry Regiment.

Although the designation of his troops had changed, they were actually the remnants of the third-ranked Amur Group; they were granted the Imperial Guard designation but had neither the Guard’s standard nor the characteristic rain capes, and the special weapons supplied to the Imperial Guard hadn’t been issued at all.

The second was Lieutenant Colonel Alexei Sergeyevich Pavlov, the former staff officer of the third-ranked Amur Group, now the chief of staff of the Rocossov Combat Group.

After being promoted to the combat group staff officer, Pavlov’s staff team consisted only of an accountant temporarily conscripted from the locale, without even a communications officer; logistics were still managed by the old quartermaster who had been brushed in from the locale’s defense forces.

In short, it was but an empty shell.

The third person was the Monk Sufang Batu Wendusu, who had just been promoted to the main priest monk, responsible for leading the combat group’s chorus, which currently had—just one person.

The fourth was Monk Yeca Neiko, currently serving as the vice-knight and commander of the Divine Arrow Company of the combat group. The company currently had just one firing frame, ten Divine Arrows, a single truck, and one prayer attendant.

However, at least the Divine Arrow Company had been replenished with ten Divine Arrows; the lone firing team was also fully staffed, and they had acquired an extra truck and a driver, making it the best-supplied unit in the entire combat group.

This was all the senior military officers of the Rocossov Combat Group at present.

The others had either been sacrificed or were lying in hospitals.

The last person was Sergeant Major Grigori, temporarily serving as the Brigadier General’s bodyguard; he was watching the surroundings with vigilant eyes.

Lokhtov was not only a railway transfer station and a logistics center but also the location of the largest hospital in the nearby combat zone; most of the casualties were sent here, and the Ronied battlefield hospital that moved with the third-ranked Amur Group was also merged into the local hospital’s system.

Wang Zhong paced back and forth on the platform, making small-talk, “The third-ranked Amur Group became an Imperial Guard regiment, so why is it numbered 31? Have we made 30 Imperial Guard regiments in less than two weeks since the war began?”

The senior officers of the combat group, as well as the guards nearby who heard this, looked at Wang Zhong with surprised eyes.

Wang Zhong frowned, “What’s wrong?”

Yegorov, “There were already thirty Imperial Guard Infantry Regiments before the war began.”

"Oh, is that so?” Wang Zhong had become accustomed to playing the part of a man lacking common sense; since the original owner was terrible, nobody would find it strange, “I see. So we’re the first to obtain the Imperial Guard title since the war started?”

Yegorov nodded, “Yes.”

Wang Zhong, “That’s wonderful. No matter what the future holds, we have made history.”

If it had been two days earlier, Wang Zhong would definitely not have said such a thing because the honor of becoming an Imperial Guard was earned through great sacrifices, and he wouldn’t mock the new designation in such a jesting manner.

But Wang Zhong was probably the kind of person who adapted easily to the environment, no matter what happened or how sad it was, he would mostly forget about it after a few sleeps.

This morning, Ludmila even teased, saying, “The old Alyosha is back, though only halfway.”

That is to say, the original Rocossov and Wang Zhong shared some common characteristics in personality.

Of course, it has now been proven that Wang Zhong certainly wouldn’t wet his pants on the battlefield; on this point, there was a significant difference between them.

Just then, the distant sound of a train whistle was heard.

Wang Zhong had already confirmed through an overhead view that the train wasn’t the one they were waiting for, but at this moment he still had to play along, so he asked Pavlov, “Is this the one?”

Pavlov looked towards the switchman’s hut at the northeast end of the station and shook his head, “No, the switchman hasn’t gone to adjust the tracks yet. This train is just passing through.”

No sooner had he spoken than the train whistled again, showing no sign of slowing down, and it barreled past the platform on a track far from the station.

The engine was pushing a railway repair car at the front, and pulling a coal wagon behind, with an anti-aircraft car, atop which were mounted quadruple Maxim machine guns on each of its three gun positions.

The railway repair car was fitted with tracks on both sides, clearly prepared to immediately repair any section of the railway that might have been bombed by the Prosen Air Force on the spot.

The soldiers in the anti-aircraft car were all tense, for now that it was daylight, Prosen planes could arrive at any time.

Further back were the sealed cars, each with its doors open, and new recruits peered curiously at the outside world from the edge of the cars.

A recruit shouted, “Your Excellency the General, how’s the frontline?”

Wang Zhong, “It’s terrifying! You guys might as well get ready to wet your pants!”

The young recruits, utterly unaware of what awaited them, laughed heartily in brave ignorance.

After saying this, Wang Zhong realized—

He glanced at Yegorov and Pavlov.

No one spoke anymore about wetting pants, but those who came from Ronied had heard more or less about it.