NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 3
Alrighty, let’s dive into this chaos! Here’s the translation in that comedic anime casual style you requested:
—
Yo, so listen up. That teacup I gave to Augustin? Yeah, that bad boy was from a super fancy set I got for fifty grand on home shopping. Not joking.
And guess what? Barely three days after Augustin got his hands on it, Napoleon gets appointed as the artillery commander of Toulon.
“Huh, was the teacup *that* good?”
Man, for the price, it sure packed an unexpected punch. Still, I figured replacing a commander would take at least a week or something, y’know? But there was a reason behind all this madness.
“Apparently, the previous commander didn’t know jack about cannons.”
“What? Then how the heck was he even commanding artillery?”
“Heh, turns out his pops was some bigwig in the Convention.”
Ah, makes sense now. In this revolution army, if your dad’s influential, it ain’t weird for you to snag a sweet gig—even if you don’t know squat about military stuff. Still, putting someone who ain’t artillery-trained in charge? Feels kinda sketchy, ya feel me?
‘Man, this is way messier than I thought.’
Yeah, sure, I’d heard stories about how disorganized the early French Revolutionary Army was, but seeing it firsthand? Holy crap, it’s way worse than expected.
A teacup swinging personnel decisions and some dude commanding artillery without ever touching a cannon… How the heck did these guys even pull off a successful revolution? Mind-blowing.
Thanks to all this, appointing Napoleon as artillery commander went smoother than expected. But despite getting the job, Napoleon wasn’t exactly looking thrilled.
“You seem like you’ve got issues, huh?”
“Figured that quick, huh?”
“It’s all over your face, man.”
Lies. The truth? I already knew Napoleon would hit trouble soon after taking command in Toulon—just based on history, ya know?
“The commander’s… too clueless.”
‘Figures.’
Calling the commander “clueless” might sound harsh, but trust me, Napoleon was trying his best to stay polite here. This guy leading the Siege of Toulon? He literally knew nothing about the military. Meet Jean François Carto, AKA General Carto. His “day job”? Being a painter.
So yeah, the revolutionary army handed military power to a dude who couldn’t tell artillery tactics from abstract art. No wonder Napoleon was losing his mind. We’re talking about a guy who couldn’t even aim cannons properly—he couldn’t hit a hill standing still because he had no clue about range distances.
‘But hey, Napoleon ain’t one to back down easily either.’
After Carto’s trolling ruined their operation, Napoleon straight-up ignored the chain of command and ratted him out directly to the revolutionary leadership. Like, imagine some random lieutenant colonel calling up the president’s office just to rat out a general. Classic move.
Result? General Carto got thrown in jail.
‘Though, gotta say, the next guy they brought in? Also not great—a doctor specializing in internal medicine. But hey, miracles happen.’
Leading the Siege of Toulon with such leaders? Yep, that’s why Napoleon’s considered a legit hero. Still, fresh on the job, Napoleon had no idea Carto was THIS much of a troll. If he’d known, he’d probably have written another letter instead of complaining to me.
“Looks like we won’t be meeting for a while.”
“Planning some ops, huh?”
“Yeah, they’re planning to retake a fortress.”
Napoleon and I used to meet regularly at my shop, but once the Siege of Toulon kicks off, those visits will naturally slow down.
That said…
“What’s the name of the fortress they’re trying to retake?”
“Malgroye, they said.”
‘Huh.’
When I heard “Malgroye,” I muttered softly under my breath.
‘Already built, huh?’
Malgroye, also known as “Little Gibraltar.” This fortress? Untouchable. So solid that even genius-level Napoleon opted to lure the enemy out instead of attacking head-on.
But there’s an even bigger problem looming.
“They said General Carto’s gonna lead this one personally.”
“…”
Even as he spoke, Napoleon didn’t fully grasp how bad this situation was. Fresh on the job, he hadn’t fully processed the battlefield dynamics—or Carto’s true incompetence. Who’d expect a commander ignorant of basic artillery ranges?
‘Ohhh, now I get why things seemed too smooth.’
My brain started buzzing with dread. If we send Napoleon out like this, the worst-case scenario—like, dying in his debut battle—is looking pretty likely.
“Napoleon.”
After some serious thinking, I dropped him a piece of advice.
“Don’t leave the artillery post for anything.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Isn’t it obvious? An artillery officer shouldn’t abandon their position, right?”
“Fair point.”
Napoleon chuckled lightly, totally missing the deeper warning. He had no idea just how clueless General Carto truly was.
—
Fast forward to the Malgroye assault under Carto’s brilliant leadership. Napoleon’s job? Climb a hill and bombard Malgroye until Carto’s main force could storm in. Simple plan, right?
Until Napoleon checked where Carto wanted them stationed.
“This is where we wait?”
“Yes, sir. Set up the artillery here and bombard the fortress when the order comes.”
“…From this distance?”
For a moment, Napoleon lost all words. Wayyyyyy out in the distance, Malgroye looked like a tiny speck. Easily 6 km away. Meanwhile, the max range of their shiny 24-pound cannons? 2 km. Yup, Malgroye sat THREE TIMES beyond firing range.
In utter disbelief, Napoleon double-checked.
“Do Toulon’s cannons have longer ranges than usual?”
“Nope, same 24-pounders as everyone else.”
Dang, looked legit. Of course it did—the army’s top-of-the-line artillery was the 24-pounder.
‘Guess the high-ground coordinates got messed up somehow.’
Napoleon assumed it was just a mix-up. After all, no way Carto could’ve miscalculated artillery range by *three times*, right?
Then, glancing at Carto’s main force location, Napoleon froze.
“Too close.”
Carto’s troops were dangerously near the fortress. Oddly, though, the fortress showed zero reaction. Dead silent. Creepy quiet.
Feeling uneasy, Napoleon decided to check things out himself—until a voice echoed in his head.
─Absolutely do NOT leave the artillery post.
It was Sejun, the shopkeeper.
At first, Napoleon brushed it off as a joke—but something about Sejun’s words stuck. There was this unshakable certainty in them, like whatever he said would definitely come true. And sure enough, reality struck hard.
─Attack! Attack now!
Turns out royalist forces were lying in ambush nearby. Carto’s main force got wiped out instantly. Pure slaughter.
‘If I’d been there…’
Chills ran down Napoleon’s spine.
─The general! Protect General Carto!
Through the chaos, Napoleon watched Carto flee uphill toward the artillery post.
—
“How did you know?”
Five days later, Napoleon walked into the shop, opening with that question.
“What are you talking about?”
“You knew the main force would get ambushed, right?”
“Huh? Did I?”
“You didn’t?”
“Nope. How would I?”
First time I’m hearing about the ambush myself. All I knew was Carto’s legendary incompetence when it came to artillery ranges. That’s why I told Napoleon not to leave the artillery post. Under Carto’s command, that post was guaranteed to be the safest spot around.
“General Carto’s been dismissed due to responsibility for the defeat.”
“Guess you’ll get some downtime till the new general arrives.”
“The next one’s supposed to be General Dufour.”
Napoleon’s tone sounded troubled.
“Not a fan, huh?”
“Dufour’s an internist.”
Carto’s replacement, Dufour, was indeed an internist—and a coward. Knowing full well about Napoleon’s reputation (thanks to that little tattle-tale letter), Dufour became Napoleon’s personal guinea pig. But lacking war experience, he freaked out during combat when witnessing soldiers getting blown apart and promptly resigned.
Only after TWO generals got swapped out could Napoleon finally fight properly.
“Don’t worry. It’ll work out fine.”
“Talking to you always feels like you know the future or something.”
“Does it?”
“Yeah.”
Napoleon found Sejun fascinating. Everything he said felt oddly prophetic, like it would inevitably come true. Sejun never seemed fazed, radiating mysterious confidence. Almost like those wise Magi predicting Jesus’ birth back in the day.
That’s why Napoleon kept coming back to the shop. Conversations with Sejun helped him regain peace of mind.
“Well, see ya later.”
“Anytime.”
From then on, Napoleon visited regularly. Every time, his rank changed. Captain, Major, Lieutenant Colonel… It was crazy watching him climb the ranks so fast.
Two months later, he hit Colonel.
‘This is it.’
I instinctively knew today would be his last visit before the final Toulon battle. Always came right before battles, like a soldier praying before heading into war.
“In two days, we attempt to seize the port.”
The endgame was approaching.