Reincarnated as Napoleon

May 5th, 1796.

It has been almost two weeks since the capitulation of the Kingdom of Piedmont-Sardinia to the French Republic after the battle of Mondovi. Napoleon and the Army of Italy pursued General Beaulieu to Lombardy where they held up defensive positions behind the Po River.

Napoleon ordered his divisions, commanded by Massena, La Harpe, Augereau, and his newly formed elite advanced guards led by Dallemagne, to advance towards Piacenza. On May 7th, 1796, they crossed the Po River, with the entire troop taking almost a day to complete the crossing.

On May 8th, 1796. Napoleon arrived and his men arrived at Fombio. In this specific location, Napoleon had read that General La Harpe would be killed in battle, possibly from friendly fire. La Harpe has been instrumental in their recent victories against the Piedmontese and Austrians. Losing him would be a major blow to the Army of Italy. Not to mention, he held great potential to be one of the greatest generals in France. To prevent that from happening, Napoleon made it his mission to ensure La Harpe’s safety on the battlefield by issuing reminders like not to join the fray and simply commanding from the rear.

However, as the battle unfolded, La Harpe’s desire for glory and his unwavering determination led him to disregard Napoleon’s instructions. Ignoring the pleas of his trusted subordinates and the assurances of his personal escort, La Harpe couldn’t resist the urge to lead his troops from the front lines.

Mounted atop his magnificent steed, La Harpe charged fearlessly into the midst of the battle. His sword flashed with deadly precision as he engaged enemy soldiers, cutting a path through their ranks.

Napoleon, observing La Harpe’s recklessness from a distance, realized that his warnings had fallen on deaf ears. Concerned for his comrade’s safety, he galloped toward the chaos, determined to shield La Harpe from harm’s way. As he approached, he noticed the growing intensity of the fighting around La Harpe, the danger closing in.

With a burst of urgency, Napoleon’s cavalry maneuvered skillfully, charging toward the encroaching enemy forces. He pulled out his musket pistol and fired a shot into the Austrian soldier who was charging with a bayonet at La Harpe.

However, on his way there, his steed, Ebony, got shot by the Austrian musket, causing Ebony to stumble and lose its footing. The sudden impact sent Napoleon hurtling through the air, his body twisting in a desperate attempt to regain balance.

Fortunately, Napoleon safely landed but as for Ebony, it was an unfortunate fate. He saw him lying on the ground motionless.

“Ebony…” Napoleon uttered. He just lost one of his prized horses. He rose to his feet and glared coldly at the one responsible, who was focused on reloading his rifle.

“I think this is time…” Napoleon pulled out another pistol, it was unlike anything the soldiers had ever seen on the battlefield. He aimed it and pulled the trigger, an ear-deafening blast erupted piercing the man’s chest.

He aimed at another and pulled the trigger, and repeated it four more times. Napoleon’s aides-de-camp, Murat, Marmont, and Junot were stunned at the display of the weapon Napoleon was using.

“What kind of weapon is that?!” Murat exclaimed. “It fired six times without reloading.”

“I don’t know…is it a pistol perhaps?” Marmont asked, his voice trembling.

“It doesn’t look like a flintlock pistol…” Junot said in a low voice.

“Murat!” Napoleon shouted, jolting Murat out of his astonishment. “Fetch me a spare horse immediately!”

Murat, shaken from his momentary daze, swiftly turned and sprinted towards the rear lines where the reserve horses were kept. The urgent command from Napoleon spurred him into action, and he knew that time was of the essence.𝒩𝗈𝓋𝑒𝐋𝑛𝔢xt.𝑐𝗈𝕞

Meanwhile, Napoleon kept a watchful eye on the battlefield. He glanced at La Harpe, still locked in the throes of combat.

“I have to get to him immediately,” Napoleon muttered under his breath as he inserted six cartridges into the cylinder. Tapping it back in place, he fired shots at General La Harpe’s position, killing six Austrians with extreme accuracy and precision.

“General Bonaparte!” Murat called out as he approached, leading a spare horse by the reins.

Napoleon turned his attention towards Murat, his eyes briefly shifting from La Harpe to acknowledge his aide-de-camp. “Thank you, Murat.”

He swiftly mounted the fresh horse and without wasting another moment, Napoleon urged the horse forward, galloping towards La Harpe. As he neared La Harpe, he pulled out his saber and hacked his way through the remaining enemy soldiers that stood between them.

Blood spattered and streaked across Napoleon’s face as he fought his way to La Harpe’s side. Moments later, he broke through the last line of defense, reaching La Harpe’s side. Both generals were panting, their bodies covered in sweat and dirt, their swords stained with the blood of their enemies.

“General,” La Harpe gasped, a mixture of relief and exhaustion in his voice. “You’ve come.”

Napoleon dismounted his horse and approached La Harpe, but instead of a warm welcome, he delivered a powerful slap to his face. La Harpe was taken aback, stunned by the force of the blow. His cheek stung, and for a moment, a heavy silence permeated the air.

Napoleon’s gaze bore into La Harpe, a mix of anger, frustration, and concern flickering in his eyes. “I told you to stay in the rear, why did you disobey my order?

La Harpe recoiled, his hand instinctively rising to touch his stinging cheek. He swallowed hard, his pride wounded but his loyalty unwavering. “I… I couldn’t just stand idly by while our men fought. I had to be with them, to lead them.”

“Next time, don’t let your ambition blind you to the importance of following orders.”

La Harpe lowered his gaze as he was embarrassed to meet his eyes.

“I understand, General. I apologize if my disobedience has brought you displeasure.”

Napoleon’s anger began to subside replaced by a sense of concern for his comrade. He reached out and placed a hand on La Harpe’s shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“Get back on the rear, we still have a fight to finish,” he said as he glanced at the Austrian lines.

La Harpe nodded, his determination reignited. He wiped the blood and sweat from his brow.

Napoleon nodded approvingly, his confidence in La Harpe restored. “Good. We must press forward and secure our victory here.”

After that, Napoleon and La Harpe reorganized their infantry and as soon as they formed a line, they ordered them to charge forward and pushed back the Austrians with relentless force.

Hours later, the Austrians began their retreat, and as they fled from the battlefield, French forces cheered and roared as they taunted the retreating enemy.

“Yeah that’s right, run you puny Austrians!”

“All you know is just running!”

Napoleon and La Harpe stood side by side, surveying the battlefield with a mix of satisfaction and weariness. The ground was littered with the debris of war—broken weapons, tattered standards, and the lifeless bodies of both French and Austrian soldiers.

“What’s the plan now, General?” La Harpe asked.

“We chase the Austrians of course,” Napoleon simply said.

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