Reincarnated as Napoleon

In the town of Toulon.

"Admiral! Admiral!"

One of the officers banged repeatedly on the Admiral quarters. Admiral Samuel Hood fluttered his eyes open, his sleep disrupted by the urgent commotion outside. As the banging grew louder, he jolted upright, his mind racing to grasp the situation at hand. Throwing on his uniform with haste, Admiral Hood swiftly made his way to the door.

With a deep breath, he swung the door open to reveal a disheveled officer, his face filled with anxiety and urgency. The young man stood before the admiral, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his composure.

"Report, Lieutenant," Admiral Hood demanded.

The officer gulped, gathering himself to relay the distressing information. "Admiral, the French have taken Fort l'Eguillette and Balaguier on the hill of Cairo," he exclaimed, his words punctuated by a sense of disbelief. 𝚋𝚎𝚍ｎ𝚘ｖ𝚎𝚕.𝚗𝚎𝚝

Hood's eyes widened with a mix of alarm and determination upon receiving the news, and with a sense of urgency, he hastened outside into the predawn darkness. The clock struck four, its chimes barely audible amidst the eerie silence that enveloped the rain-soaked streets of Toulon.

His gaze instinctively turned toward the distant hill where Fort l'Eguillette and Balaguier stood, now under the control of the French. The two forts, once stalwart symbols of the British defense against the French siege, appeared as mere dark silhouettes against the gloomy backdrop of the early hour.

Seconds later, the bleak darkness was shattered by a sudden flicker of light, casting an eerie glow over the scene. In that instant, the stillness of the early morning was shattered by the resounding boom of a cannon firing. The explosive echo reverberated through the misty air, sending shivers down the spines of those who stood on the rain-soaked streets of Toulon.

As the sound dissipated, a chilling realization took hold. The heavy thud of wood splintering followed, originating from the massive ship-of-the-line docked in the harbor. It was as if the very timbers that comprised its hull quivered under the relentless force of the impact.

Hood blinked as he watched one of the ship-of-the-line getting struck by a cannon with extreme accuracy. And then his heart raced, realizing the precarious situation he was under.

While still in his stupor, another thunderous explosion jolted Admiral Hood to full alertness. His trained instincts kicked in, and he swiftly assessed the dire circumstances that surrounded him. The French had not only captured the forts but were now systematically targeting their naval forces.

"Inform all the commanders and officers to prepare for a retreat!" Hood said, his voice quivering.

"Retreat?" The officer standing next to him repeatedly. "But sir…if we retreat, we would lose our position here in Toulon…"

"If we stay, then our fleet would be decimated!" Hood's voice cracked like a whip, and the officer was startled by the sudden raise of his voice.

"Understood, sir…"

As the officer turned on his heels and hurried away to carry out the order, Admiral Hood's gaze remained transfixed on the misty harbor. His eyes locked onto the beleaguered ship-of-the-line, its once-majestic form now marred by the brutal assault of enemy fire. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon him, and time seemed to slip through his fingers like sand in an hourglass.

He didn't expect the French to launch their attack in the early hours of the morning, especially amidst the heavy rain that cascaded relentlessly from the sky.

The firing of the cannon from Mount Cairo woke the citizens of Toulon from their slumber. Panicked voices and hurried footsteps filled the rain-soaked streets as people stumbled out of their homes, their faces etched with fear and confusion. The attack had taken them by surprise, and the realization of the impending danger spread like wildfire.

"What is happening?"

"Are we under attack?!"

"Look, the British ship is listing!"

The alarmed voices of the citizens of Toulon echoed through the rain-soaked streets, adding to the chaotic atmosphere that enveloped the town. Fear and uncertainty gripped their hearts as they witnessed the unfolding assault on the British fleet. They had grown accustomed to the presence of the British forces, relying on them for protection from the revolutionary government of France.

Now, the sight of their ships being battered by enemy fire shattered their sense of security.

Of course, the order from Samuel Hood would take hours to reach every man of the Allied forces.

***

Six o'clock in the morning, three ships of the line of the British Forces, and almost twelve ships of the line of the Royal Navy had been sunk by the French Forces. Napoleon, who was peering through his spyglass watched as the citizens and allied forces ran amok the streets. By that time, the rain already ended.

He grinned in satisfaction, observing the chaos unfold. The capture of Fort l'Eguillette and Balaguier had given the French a significant advantage, and the relentless assault on the British fleet was pushing them to the brink of defeat. Napoleon's plan was working, and victory seemed within his grasp.

The original plan was to force the British out of Toulon by capturing the two forts they had painstakingly captured early in the morning. But, due to the rate of the ships getting sunk by the heavy cannons, the plan deviated. They will no longer force the British out of Toulon, they are going to launch a full-scale assault on the town itself.

Napoleon knew that the British forces were in disarray, and their retreat was hastened by the threat of their fleet getting sunk.

"Fire!" Napoleon's voice boomed and the earth beneath him quaked as cannons roared to life. The French artillery unleashed a barrage of cannonballs and rained upon the docked ship-of-the-lines. They manned ten heavy cannons from the forts, and out of 10 cannons fired, nine hit their mark, adding another loss to the British ships.

"Check fire! Adjust firing angle two degrees," Napoleon commanded, his mind working at a lightning pace, assimilating a wealth of critical information. With unparalleled precision, he factored in the wind direction, the distance to the target, his current position in relation to the enemy, the intricate topography of the forts, and the velocity and weight of the cannonballs. Every detail mattered.

Back in the original world, Adrian's best subject is math, particularly calculus. His education in the military school where he was taught about artillery, coupled with his modern knowledge and the unique insights bestowed upon him by the blessing of the goddess, granted him an unparalleled ability to perform mental calculations with remarkable precision.

One minute later, the French heavy cannons are ready to unleash another devastating volley.

"Sir, your orders?" One of the artillerymen asked Napoleon who was peering through his spyglass.

"Fire!" Napoleon's voice rang out with authority, and the French cannons boomed once again, launching a volley of cannonballs toward the British ships.

General Dugommier, who was watching from behind, was awed and impressed by Napoleon's artillery tactics. The precision and effectiveness of the French cannons were unlike anything he had witnessed before. He knew that Napoleon possessed a rare talent for warfare, a strategic mind that could turn the tides of battle in their favor. With each successful volley, the British and Spanish ship-of-the-lines suffered further damage, adding four more ships sunk.

However, he couldn't help but notice something from his command.

"Colonel!" Dugommier called as he spurred his horse forward and stopped it the moment it arrived next to Napoleon.

"What is it, General?" Napoleon asked as he lowered his spyglass and looked at him.

"Why are you only targeting the ships and not the town? That town is filled with traitors who sided with the enemy. They deserved to be punished for their betrayal," General Dugommier suggested, his voice filled with conviction.

Napoleon turned his gaze from the ongoing bombardment to the town of Toulon. He contemplated Dugommier's words for a moment, weighing the options before him. The citizens of Toulon had indeed provided aid and support to the Coalition forces, enabling their stronghold in the region. Their actions endangered the French Republic and hindered the progress of the revolution.

"Well, it would be a waste to use the cannons to fire on the town when we can target their warships instead," Napoleon flippantly replied. "But if you are not satisfied with it, you can order me. After all, you are my commanding officer. So what is it going to be General? Are you going to order me to fire on our countrymen?"

"They are no longer our countrymen," Dugommier paused, his gaze hardened.

The citizens of Toulon, once their compatriots, had aligned themselves with the enemy, supporting the Coalition forces against their own nation. Their betrayal was an affront to the ideals of the French Republic.

Dugommier took a deep breath and gave his order. "Unleash hell on them, Napoleon. That's an order."

"Understood, General," Napoleon said, turning his gaze back to the harbor where thick black smoke billowed from the burning British and Spanish ships. With a nod of affirmation, he relayed the order to his artillerymen.

The French cannons pivoted, their aim redirected towards the town of Toulon. The citizens who had sought refuge within its walls now found themselves caught in the crosshairs of destruction. The chaotic streets became the target of a merciless bombardment as cannonballs rained down upon the town.

The thunderous booms reverberated through the air, drowning out the panicked cries and plead for mercy. Buildings crumbled under the devastating impact, sending debris flying in all directions. Flames erupted, engulfing structures in an inferno of destruction. The once picturesque town of Toulon now resembled a war-torn wasteland.

"General, I suggest that you move your troops now. The British and the allied forces appeared to have arrived in the port."

Dugommier checked through his spyglass and there he saw the allied forces making their way to their respective ships.

"Understood! Thank you, Colonel, for your hard work. I appreciate your dedication, and I will make sure to highlight your achievements in the letter that I will send to the National Convention."

Napoleon scoffed softly. "I thank you for that. For the meantime…"

Napoleon's words were interrupted by a huge explosion that erupted in the center of Toulon.

"What was that?" Dugommier demanded.

Napoleon quickly peered through his spyglass and saw the French ship of the line on fire.

"They are scuttling our ships," Napoleon realized with a mix of anger and frustration. "General you have to hurry!"

With a resolute nod, General Dugommier swiftly turned his horse around and galloped towards the troops, barking orders and urging them to hasten on the preparations of assaulting the city of Toulon.

"Don't let anyone escape! This is our only opportunity to deal a huge blow on the Coalition forces…"

As he was about to finish his sentence, Napoleon saw from the starboard side of the British ship. And moments later, the cannons that hurtled in the air crashed thirty meters east of Napoleon's position.

"Ah, they finally got their shit together huh?!" Napoleon exclaimed with a wry smile, his eyes fixed on the approaching ships which appeared to be the HMS Robust, warping out of the harbor for their desperate escape.

"Prepare for new instructions. Adjust the elevation by four degrees and the azimuth by 45 degrees to the right. Fire when ready!"

A minute later, The French cannons roared to life, belching fire and smoke as they unleashed a barrage of cannonballs toward the fleeing HMS Robust.

The crew of the Robust, realizing the imminent danger, scrambled to adjust their course and take evasive action. The ship maneuvered with desperation, its sails billowing as it attempted to dodge the incoming projectiles. But despite their efforts, the cannons found their mark.

Explosions erupted on the deck of the Robust as cannonballs tore through the wooden hull, ripping apart masts and rigging. Splintered wood and debris were sent flying, mingling with the cries of wounded sailors.

One hour and thirty minutes later, the Allied forces had already lost 40 ships. Only 34 ships are left.

Samuel Hood was still on the fort, coordinating the retreat of the Allied forces. But the fear of getting struck by a cannon turned it into a rout. It also didn't help that they learned of the French mobilization from both sides of Toulon, basically encircling the city. At any moment, the French comprising thirty-two thousand men would flood into the city.

He knew what was going to happen if the French arrived at the city, they would massacre everyone. Even if they were to put up a fight, the British and the Allied forces are outnumbered. With the French targeting their ships, their escape to the harbor is growing increasingly difficult. The situation seemed bleak, and Hood could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. He needed to make a decision quickly, one that would save as many lives as possible.

With a heavy heart, Hood turned to his officers and gave the order they had all been dreading.

"Reach out to the French, tell them we are going to surrender."