What happens if Napoleon Bonaparte is resurrected in a fantasy world to save a whole continent from a Demon Lord?
A moment after his death, the former ruler of Europe receives a visit from the mysterious Faucheur, who proposes him to reborn in anoth...
Furthermore, Grote Muren would have been demilitarized, remaining a simple commercial citadel, with the creation of a buffer zone in a way not dissimilar to what happened along the border with the Union.
Victor listened without batting an eyelid, but his look left no doubt as to what his response would be.
"Your proposal is interesting. However, tell me just one reason why I should agree to negotiate. We have already defeated you, our troops have made it this far without suffering any losses, and the army you have gathered in the hills west of here is little more than half the size of ours."
"Maybe. This time, however, you don't have a mountain to collapse on top of us, or an expendable unit to send to the slaughter to do it."
Hearing those words, Lefde didn't know whether it was better to ask his nephew to account for it or to blame his own immaturity for wanting to convince himself that it had really been a coincidence.
But in the end he preferred to remain silent, so as not to further stain his conscience.
"Now you listen to me, Adrian. What you and your comrades must do is lower your weapons, get on your knees and beg for mercy. Deliver the leaders of the rebellion to us to be executed, starting with this much-talked-about Daemon. And then perhaps, and I emphasize perhaps, some of you will be spared. Otherwise, we will wipe out every last one of you, and although you may think otherwise, not even you will survive, regardless of the name you bear."
There was clearly no room for civil discussion; and as if Adrian had expected something like this, immediately after Victor had finished speaking he got up to leave.
"Looks like we'll meet on the battlefield after all. But I want to remind you of what I said at the beginning. We are here to serve the interests of the people and protect their freedom. And you can rest assured that we will do everything in our power to fulfill our mandate. See you soon, Acting Grand Duke."
The last sentence hit home, so much so that Adrian barely had time to leave the room before Victor threw his glass at the door.
"But who does he think he is? Damn arrogant imperial!"
"Such confidence is not normal." said Lefde. "They're definitely up to something."
"He's just a good actor."
And the facts soon seemed to prove right those like Philippe who considered that embassy a desperate move to try to avoid a practically certain defeat.
"Report, My Lord!" said a scout, arriving shortly after dinner was over. "The enemy has abandoned his position on Ratcliffe Hill."
"Did they retreat?" Lefde asked
"No, General. They took up positions on the hill immediately to the west, north of the village of Mistvale."
"Does this make sense. Ratcliffe is the highest position in the area, but is very exposed and has no cover in case of attack. The hill on the other side is lower, but from there you can easily control the road to Basterwick."
"Poor fools. Do they really think they want to face us?"
It was what Victor was waiting for. He was only seventeen, and about to become the youngest Grand Duke of Eirinn to lead a successful military campaign in formally foreign territory.
"We will sweep them away. Get ready, we will leave before dawn."
"My Lord, our reinforcements have not yet arrived."
"What are the reinforcements for? We are already almost double their size. And by tomorrow night I'll have that bastard Longinus' eyes in a cup!"
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