Reincarnated as Napoleon



Five days after the Battle of Lodi, Napoleon arrived in Milan. The local Italians living there stood on the side of the streets, waving their hands as they cheered and whistled.

"They are cheering for us…" Murat observed. "Why is that?"

"It's simple," Napoleon replied with a slight smile playing on his lips, as he rode alongside Murat, his trusted cavalry commander. "They are cheering because they see in us the heralds of change, the agents of liberation."

As they continued their journey through the jubilant crowds, Napoleon gestured toward the people lining the streets.

"These Italians have long yearned for freedom from foreign oppression," he explained. "For centuries, they have been subject to the rule of foreign powers, their aspirations for self-determination suppressed."

Napoleon's voice carried a sense of conviction and passion as he continued, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the cheering Italians. And as if caught in the hype, Napoleon waved his hand back at the locals.

Arriving at the Palazzo Serbelloni of Milan, Napoleon dismounted his horse and convened an emergency meeting inside. The participants of the meeting were his division generals, who were sitting around the table.

"Gentlemen," Napoleon's voice resounded with firm authority as he addressed the assembled officers. "We find ourselves poised upon the threshold of a historic juncture, teeming with immense possibilities. The Italian populace has embraced us as their liberators, and it is imperative that we embody this noble role in every aspect of our conduct. I entrust each of you with the crucial responsibility of instilling within your troops the values of honor, dignity, and civility."

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in.

"Let it be unequivocally clear that acts of uncivilized behavior have no place within our ranks. Looting and pillaging shall be met with zero tolerance. Those who dare to indulge in such base actions will face swift and severe repercussions, as we shall not hesitate to eliminate the perpetrators on sight. Furthermore, we shall display utmost respect for the sanctity of churches and the beliefs they represent. The destruction or disparagement of these sacred places and the cherished faith of the Italian people shall not be countenanced. Our duty is to safeguard their spiritual heritage and protect their religious sentiments. In our pursuit of liberation, let us rise above the chaos of conflict and embody the noble ideals that have propelled us forward. Our actions shall serve as a testament to our integrity, discipline, and humanity. We must inspire not just fear, but also reverence and gratitude in the hearts of the Italian people."

After saying that, the Generals exchanged glances at one another, as if confused as to why Napoleon would order them such a thing.

"May I ask why, General?" Berthier raised his hand.

"I want to prevent rebellions in our conquered territories," Napoleon revealed. In real history, Napoleon suffered many revolts in the cities that the French had taken over from the Austrians due to their misconduct towards the people. If he wants to finish the Italian campaign as quickly as possible, he must ensure the support and cooperation of the local population. That way, they won't be delayed by quelling down uprisings and can focus their efforts on defeating the Austrians.

"Well, we can simply squash any rebellion, General Bonaparte…" Massena flippantly said.

"That's true, Massena, but it's a waste of time," Napoleon interrupted and continued. "Crushing rebellions may be a temporary solution, but it comes at a cost. We cannot afford to squander our resources and precious time suppressing uprisings when our ultimate goal lies in defeating the Austrians and solidifying our hold on Italy. It is a matter of strategic efficiency. As General yourselves, I believe that you understand what I'm trying to convey," Napoleon stated, his gaze sweeping across the room. The generals nodded in understanding, and their initial confusion giving way to a growing appreciation for the broader strategy at play.

"Now that we have captured the capital city of the Lombardy region, we shall also take this opportunity to set up a client state for France. I'm thinking of the Republic of Lombardy. I'll draft the new constitutions later in my room."

"What about the Austrians that are still held up in the citadel?" General Augereau asked, raising his hand.

"Oh, I almost forgot about them," Napoleon chuckled slightly. "I'd say they are to be exterminated should they refuse to lay down arms. We'll assign four battalions to do that but for now, I want you to prepare for future battles. We haven't defeated the Austrians completely. We will chase them next week, for now, we will take a rest. That's all, if there is no question, you are dismissed."

After the meeting, Napoleon was escorted by the manservants of the Palazzo Serbelloni to the bedroom.

"Here it is, sir," the manservant said as he swung the door open, revealing a neoclassical bedroom adorned with luxurious furnishings and elegant tapestries. Napoleon stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, taking in its opulence.

"Grazie," he replied to the manservant with a nod of appreciation. "You may go now."

The manservant bowed and quickly left, leaving Napoleon alone in the quiet expanse of the bedroom. As he removed his tricorn hat and coat, he heaved a deep sigh.

He then lay down on the plush bed and stared up at the ceiling, and recalled the plan that he had concocted to end the Italian campaign swiftly.

Napoleon knew that General Beaulieu would be replaced by General von Wurmser in the next week or two. He is a seasoned general, one that would prove to be a headache for Napoleon. However, fortunately for Napoleon, he already came up with a way to defeat him and his army.

It would be in the Battle of Castiglione. Napoleon had a chance to encircle Wurmser and his troops but due to the timing errors, Wurmser was able to react and retreat back to the Tyrol.

If he managed to trap Wurmer's army in Castiglione, then he would be able to redirect his focus on sieging Mantua, the key to Italy, effectively removing the Austrian presence in Italy.

Speaking of Mantua, Napoleon also came up with a way to end the siege quickly, it would rely on the siege artillery, which he would request from the Directory. But, he also knew that those artillery pieces would be intercepted by Admiral Nelson. So, to prevent that, he'll have to ask a favor from a certain someone.

***

May 25th, 1796, in the Château de Chantilly. Ciela was in her office sifting through a stack of documents.

A knock on the door interrupted her concentration. Ciela looked up and saw Beaumont standing at the entrance.

"Madam Bonaparte, there is a telegraph for you from General Bonaparte," Beaumont said, holding out a small slip of paper.

Ciela took the telegraph and quickly read its contents. Her brows furrowed as she absorbed the message. It was from her husband, how long she had been waiting for his message. But instead of the passionate and affectionate letter she often receives from him, this one was different.

"Eliminate H.N…" Ciela muttered under her breath.

So Napoleon finally asked for it. She too had come up with exterminating Horation Nelson as the English Admiral would prove to be a barrier to Napoleon's ambitions.

"As you wish…my darling."

***

On the 30th of May, 1796, off the coast of Arma di Taggia, Commodore Horatio Nelson was overlooking the sea from the ship's railing, breathing in the air of anticipation. His ship, the HMS Agamemnon, had been patrolling the Ligurian coast, vigilant for any signs of French naval activity.

ƥαṇdαs ηθνε| Since he got stationed there, he was infuriated by the fact that thirty-seven of their ships were lost to the French forces in the siege of Toulon. A huge loss to the Royal Navy and to the Mediterranean fleet.

He was determined to make the man responsible pay for the humiliation.

As Horatio Nelson scanned the horizon, his eyes caught a glimpse of movement. He pulled out his spyglass and trained it on the source of his curiosity. There, in the distance, Nelson spotted a tartane heading towards his ship. It seemed out of place amidst the vast expanse of the sea, but Nelson's instincts told him there was more to this encounter than met the eye.

As the tartane drew nearer, Nelson could make out figures. Five men rowed the boat and a beautiful lady sat at the stern. The sight intrigued him, and he called for his first mate to join him on deck.

"Mr. Hardy, come here and take a look," Nelson called out, his voice carrying authority.

The first mate hurried over, his eyes widening as he saw the approaching boat. "What do you make of this, sir?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Mr. Hardy, but I sense there's something significant about this encounter," Nelson replied, fixed on the lady. "She must be an Émigré."

Nelson observed the lady more closely as the boat drew closer. She sat with poise and elegance, her strawberry-blonde hair cascading in gentle waves around her shoulders. Her attire suggested refinement and wealth, yet there was a hint of weariness in her eyes. She seemed out of place in the small boat, surrounded by rowers who were clearly of lower social standing.

As the tatarne reached HMS Agamemnon, the lady's eyes met Nelson's, and he was momentarily captivated by her charm. She rose to her feet and spoke.

"Please…help me! My family was chased out by the revolutionaries…I have no place to go."

Based on her words alone, Nelson immediately confirmed that she was indeed an Émigré. As a gentleman, he couldn't let a woman of her stature be left stranded at sea. Nelson motioned for his crew to lower a small boat and assist the lady onto the HMS Agamemnon. Once she was safely on deck, Nelson approached her with a courteous bow.

"Madam, I am Commodore Horatio Nelson, at your service. May I inquire as to your name and how I may be of assistance?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

The lady smiled gratefully. "I am…Ciela…and I seek refuge…"

"Very well, Lady Ciela, you can stay in my private quarters."

Hearing that, Ciela smiled warmly, but underneath the smile was a hidden darkness, a calculated spark in her eyes that hinted at a malevolent scheme taking shape.

***

An hour later, Ciela stood on the deck of the ship, surrounded by corpses of the crew of the HMS Agamemnon. Blood stained her hands, her expression twisted with a mix of triumph and cold determination. The once pristine white dress she had worn was now spattered with evidence of her ruthless actions.

Nelson, wounded and disoriented, lay on the deck, gasping for breath as he struggled to comprehend the betrayal before him. He had never expected such an act from the very woman he had shown kindness and offered refuge.

"Why, Lady Ciela?" Nelson managed to choke out, his voice barely a whisper.

"I am but an instrument, carrying out the will of a greater force. My purpose was never to seek your protection; it was to ensure your demise."

Nelson's brows furrowed, his mind racing to make sense of Ciela's cryptic words. Before he could utter another word, she reached down and gripped his collar, pulling him up to meet her gaze.

"Do you know what you represent, Commodore? You are the embodiment of the British Empire, a symbol of the very oppression that my husband fights against," Ciela spat, her voice laced with venom. "Your death will serve as a blow to their arrogance."

After saying that, Ciela drove down the stiletto straight to Nelson's heart, ending his life.

"Lady Ciela, we have planted the explosives on the hanging magazines," one of the men she hired whispered to her, interrupting the grim scene. She nodded, releasing Nelson's lifeless body and turning her attention to the next phase of her plan.

Once she destroyed the ship, she would cut up loose ends, ensuring that no one suspected her involvement in Nelson's death. With a calculated gaze, Ciela commanded her hired men to carry out their assigned tasks swiftly and efficiently.

Ten minutes later.

Explosions reverberated through the air as the HMS Agamemnon succumbed to the devastating power of the hidden explosives. The ship erupted in flames, billowing smoke and sending debris flying in all directions. It was a spectacle of destruction that would soon be witnessed by those on the nearby shores.

Ciela watched from the tartane, a smile gracing her lips.

"Now, there's one last thing that needs to be done," Ciela said, glancing over her crew.

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