Holy Roman Empire

Just as Austria was preparing to turn the tables, the situation in Egypt had undergone a drastic change.

No matter how Russia and Austria tried to hold them back, under the all-out efforts of the French, the Rebel Army led by Mahidi could not hold on, and the battle outcomes were too gruesome to behold.

If it wasn't for the Eighth Division wreaking havoc during their retreat and blocking the Nile River, which added logistical pressure to the French Army, the French would have killed their way into the Rebel Army's stronghold—Sultan—long ago.

In the headquarters of the Eighth Division, Fa Jinhan hurried in, "Lieutenant Colonel, something major has happened.

We've just received news that Mahidi died last night. The cause of death is not yet clear, but it is suspected to be related to an infection in his wound."

To survive on the battlefield, besides needing a set of skills to protect oneself, more often it is a matter of luck.

Mahidi was incredibly unlucky. While inspecting the troops, he was hit in the left leg by a stray bullet from who knows where.

The bullet didn't hit the bone but left a hole in his thigh. With the medical technology of the time, this would only be considered a minor injury.

The bullet didn't hit a vital area, and as long as one received timely treatment, there was an eighty to ninety percent chance of survival.

However, Mahidi's luck was not good; even with such a minor injury, the wound became infected.

Theoretically speaking, an infection is not a fatal injury; most can be treated with antibiotics. If all else fails, amputation to save the patient's life is still an option.

Unfortunately, this is the African Continent, where there is a lack of medical resources, and neither Anglo-Austria was so luxurious as to send medical personnel to the Rebel Army. What was prevalent here was...

Anyway, after a sequence of events, Mahidi's health collapsed.

Whether Mahidi lived or died wasn't important; the key issue was the timing of his death. Had he died at a different time, people like Hutile would not have bothered.

But now was not the time. The Rebel Army had just suffered a severe blow, beaten senseless by the French, and it was precisely the time they needed to boost their morale.

When it rains, it pours, and Mahidi died at this time, leaving the Rebel Army without even a standard-bearer.

No matter who took over, they would not be able to command everyone's respect. A fierce power struggle over leadership within the Rebel Army would surely follow.

The Rebel Army was truly in a "domestic and foreign predicament," and could collapse at any moment.

After pondering for a moment, Hutile replied with a bitter smile, "This news has come at the worst possible time. It seems our mission is about to end."
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The deep frustration mixed within his tone, and the worry evident between his brows revealed Hutile's inner turmoil.

In peacetime, it was exceedingly difficult for military personnel to achieve great success. This Egyptian uprising was the best opportunity they had been waiting for.

Leaving now would yield a decent evaluation, but it would be just that—decent. If rated, it would amount to at most eighty points, a full twenty points shy of perfect.

There was no choice. Strategically, they had succeeded in creating chaos for the French. But tactically, they never achieved a victory worth bragging about.

The few victories they had were achieved through brute force with numbers. Almost every battle saw casualties on their side several times higher than that of the enemy.

The competition within the Austrian army was also very fierce; it adhered to the natural law where only the strong were revered. Such battle records were naturally not something to be proud of.

Botiolayek said, "Since we have to leave anyway, we might as well take advantage of the chaos to leave now. If we delay, we will witness a farce."

The French Army was bearing down, and the Rebel Army was in grave danger, yet the higher-ups were still engaging in cutthroat political intrigue.

As a traditional military man, Botiolayek naturally did not want to see such a farce.

Especially since continuing could possibly drag Austria down with them, they couldn't stay any longer.

...

As expected, no sooner had Hutile and the others left than the internal power struggle within the Rebel Army erupted.

If it hadn't been for the sudden French attack that forced the Rebel Army to retreat again, the Rebels might have staged an all-out brawl among themselves.

In line with the principle of "if I can't have it, neither can the enemy," General Jeret, an outsider, became the leader of the Rebel Army in his confusion.

Of course, this title of "leader" was merely nominal; in reality, Jeret couldn't control anyone. If he wanted to command the troops, he could only entice them with weapons and equipment in exchange for their service.

In the central command, General Jeret, who had just taken over as commander-in-chief, was now busy trying to manage the aftermath.

"General, we've just received a message. The high command of the Eighth Division has disappeared en masse; it looks like the Austrians have chosen to abandon the Rebel Army."

"Bang," a sound echoed, and the documents on General Jeret's desk had already flown off.

Without a doubt, for Major General Jeret, this was staggering and terrible news.

Without Austria's support, the Rebel Army's chances of turning the tables had grown even slimmer.

Unlike most missions, Major General Jeret truly hoped the Rebel Army would succeed. Since the great victory at Aswan, which launched him into the ranks of world-renowned generals, Major General Jeret had been inextricably linked to the Rebel Army.

A general's reputation needs to be supported by accomplishments, and there are few achievements that can compare with defeating the French.

In life, one vies for fame and fortune.

Major General Jeret could not eschew materialism, especially after having gained so much, he was even less willing to part with it.

After all, the success at Aswan was greatly exaggerated, with the Rebel Army suffering far more casualties than the French.

If not for political necessities, such a pyrrhic approach to combat would hardly be presentable.

No one likes a ruthless commander, especially the lower and middle-ranking officers and soldiers; no one wants to be betrayed.

Returning home with these achievements, aside from gaining fame, Major General Jeret's actual benefits were not high, he might even be sidelined.

Anger cannot solve problems, unless the Anglo-Austrian two countries directly intervened, the outcome of this uprising was already predetermined.

Originally, General Jeret's plan was to provoke a conflict between France and Austria and pull Austria in over its head. Given the current international climate, there was an 80% chance that just a spark would ignite a confrontation between the two countries.

After calming down, Major General Jeret realized the futility: "Jack, get ready to pack up, we need to leave here as soon as possible.

It must be done in secret, without attracting the attention of these... Remember, everything in the warehouse must be taken."

If the goal was merely to flee, there was no need to pack up; slipping away quietly would be best.

Obviously, Major General Jeret was not one to adhere to a modest lifestyle; he had taken advantage of his position to amass a large amount of benefits.

Egypt is an ancient civilization with a deep historical heritage, rich in gold, silver, jewels, and countless antique artifacts.

Particularly the latter, which held no value in the eyes of the Rebel Army's higher-ups. Since General Jeret was fond of them, naturally, they had to be given away.

If they didn't curry favor with the person in charge, who knew if they would be undercut when allocating assistance materials.

Now about to flee, General Jeret had not forgotten these gains and even planned to take it a step further, aiming for the treasures collected by the Rebel Army.

The young officer Jack shook his head: "General, we have too much to carry, it would take at least dozens of carriages to transport.

With so much to take, keeping the Rebel Army leadership in the dark and leaving quietly is going to be difficult."

General Jeret had heard the most pretentious saying: "Having too much money is also a trouble," never expecting to experience it for himself.

Running away with dozens of carriages, not to mention keeping the Rebel Army leadership in the dark, even the French, the enemy, would not be fooled.

Once the news got out, never mind running away with the treasure, even keeping one's life would be questionable.

Major General Jeret scolded: "Idiot, when did I ever tell you to run away directly! Without the protection of a large army, these goods are a death warrant."

Although scolded, Jack was not annoyed and asked with a grin: "Uncle, what's your plan?"

General Jeret glared at his nephew, annoyed: "Shut up, remember to call me General. If you want to further your career in the military, don't expose our relationship."

Like most European armies of the time, the British Army also had a plethora of nepotism, but such matters were to be understood, not discussed.

In order not to alienate the common soldiers in the army, these beneficiaries, while enjoying their privileges, also had to keep as low a profile as possible.

If their connections were exposed, it wouldn't matter in the short term, but it would invariably lead to being treated differently during future promotions and appointments.

The problem might seem minor – after all, the commoners could only envy – yet the repercussions could be severe. When seeking higher rank, having this issue pointed out by rivals could be the last straw that breaks the camel's back.

What about the escape plan?

What plan is needed? Isn't it obvious to flee with a large army?

Once across the border into British-Africa, safety would be in the bag.