Chapter 778: The Easiest Battle
Beside the bushes, French soldiers leaned against a wagon, playing various instruments and singing Glory and Victory:
"Loyalty never wavers,
"Victory is our gift to His Majesty the King!
"Through blood and fire, we win the highest honor…"
Although none of them belonged to the Royal Guard, who didn't dream of joining the elite regiments? Singing the Guard's marching songs a few times made them feel just a little closer to that dream.
Meanwhile, Napoleon waved away mosquitoes as he wrote a letter in elegant Roman script:
[My Dearest Désirée,
…Although I am about to face tens of thousands of Austrian marauders on the battlefield, my heart is filled only with thoughts of you…
God is my witness—whether I am marching or leading a war council, your jewel-like eyes and radiant smile are always in my mind…
My love for you is deep and fierce, like a wild horse galloping to your side…]
While Napoleon was orchestrating his campaign to Toulon, he had met his brother's fiancée's younger sister—Mademoiselle Désirée Eugénie.
The Battle Begins
Augereau successfully found a gap between the Austrian center and right flank, maneuvering south of the enemy lines. But before Napoleon could fully complete his encirclement, his own cavalry took the initiative and blocked the enemy's retreat to the south.
General Dan Napoleonde watched the battlefield collapse faster than he could react. Stomping his feet in frustration, he had no way to counter what was happening.
Augereau drew his sword and quietly ordered his troops:
—"Victor's corps is ahead of the enemy. Charge forward, and we'll crush them in a pincer movement!"
Through his telescope, Augereau identified the Austrian banners—it was Provera's corps from Cagnes.
Napoleonde was utterly stunned.
"Where did these thousands of French soldiers come from?!"
By midday, the battle had already begun.
The Murat Corps, trained at the Paris Military Academy and among the first to fight alongside the Crown Prince, had always modeled itself after the Old Guard.
The French soldiers, roaring with excitement, charged forward.
Had Napoleonde known that Murat had taken the time to write letters to both his mother and his lover before the battle, he might have collapsed on the spot.
This was meant to be a surprise attack. Napoleon's preparations were precise and meticulous—any competent officer merely needed to follow the plan, and the battle would be won.
That night, the only ones who truly celebrated were the mosquitoes feasting on the Austrian dead.
Joseph had assigned Napoleon only the most talented officers available in history.
Final Strike
Pointing to the southwest, Napoleon ordered Marmont:
—"The hills three kilometers away are the best firing position. Set up an artillery battery there immediately. The 1st Battalion of the 7th Corsican Infantry will cover you."
—"Commander, the nearest enemy forces are three kilometers away. Around 6,000 Austrians are in that sector, with possibly two or three more battalions further west."
Napoleon quickly noticed that the Austrian formations were in disarray—their flags tilted, their movements chaotic.
—"Ménil's corps will serve as the reserve."
—"Yes, Commander."
Immediately, over a dozen French infantry columns charged the Austrians.
Marmont, one of France's best artillery commanders—second only to Murat—unleashed the full power of his battery. His four 12-pound cannons and seven 6-pound guns roared with relentless firepower.
French cavalry then struck the Austrian right flank at the perfect moment.
Over 4,000 soldiers rapidly deployed into a firing line, unleashing a deadly volley from their percussion-cap muskets.
Historically, just as Napoleon and Désirée were discussing marriage, he met the greatest entanglement of his life—Joséphine.
But at this moment, artillery shells, handpicked and positioned by Napoleon himself, rained down on the Austrian right flank. The angled trajectory forced the Austrians to constantly divide their attention between the battlefield and the incoming shells.
The Austrians hastily formed defensive positions, only to be bombarded relentlessly.
Murat nodded at the cavalry messenger, then recalled the terrain in his mind—he had personally scouted every inch of southeastern Toulon and had even drawn his own maps. He knew the battlefield like the back of his hand.
Due to the speed of the French attack, Napoleonde didn't even have time to retreat. Nearly 5,000 of his main force were surrounded before they could escape.
—"Lieutenant Junot, command the skirmishers to attack the enemy's left flank. If they attempt to retreat to Nice, you must hold them for at least three hours!"
Under relentless cannon fire, the Austrian soldiers finally dropped to their knees and surrendered.
For Napoleonde, this was no longer just a nightmare—it was total disaster.
The Italian Army's main force had waited all night in the bushes for action. At dawn, cavalry scouts reported that Napoleonde's army had appeared nine kilometers south, prompting Murat to sigh in boredom.
Murat turned to Augereau.
—"Lead the 8th Infantry Regiment and two cavalry squadrons southward. Avoid direct engagement and block any reinforcements coming from Cagnes."
The Murat Corps, even among old French regiments, was far more disciplined—better trained than even the Corsican units Napoleon had personally drilled. They were also the only old-guard troops equipped with percussion-cap muskets, giving them an enormous firepower advantage.
Not long after, Napoleon coldly ended his engagement with Désirée and fell into the arms of a noble widow.
—"Yes, Commander."
With only 1,800 soldiers at his disposal and facing an unexpected battle, Napoleon made a firm decision—hesitation could lead to disaster.
—"Cavalry units 8, 7, and 9—attack from the west before the enemy reorganizes!"
In reality, Victor was still mopping up enemy remnants around Cagnes and hadn't joined the battle yet. But it no longer mattered—Augereau's troops had shattered the Austrians almost instantly.
Désirée's father was a wealthy merchant, capable of providing substantial financial support to Napoleon's career.
—"Serurier's Corps will lead the frontal assault!"
By the time French cavalry detected Serurier's advancing troops, they were barely 1.5 kilometers apart.
Shortly after, Napoleon and Désirée plunged into a passionate romance.
Augereau quickly assessed the battlefield and decided to press westward—perhaps there was another opportunity near Cagnes.
However, just five kilometers west of Nice, he unexpectedly encountered a force of over 3,000 Austrians.
[May our love burn like an eternal flame, igniting our passion and longing…]
An hour earlier, through careful maneuvering, the French forces had surrounded Napoleonde's corps from the north.
Even Napoleonde himself was captured by French cavalry before he could flee more than three kilometers westward.
Serurier's assault was still underway, but Napoleonde's defensive line had already been shattered beyond repair.
This battle was completely unwinnable for the Austrians.
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