September 22, 1793.

Three thousand men positioned themselves in front of Mont Caire. The soldiers overlooked the hill as they saw a British fort looking down at them with cannons and muskets.

Napoleon's horse trotted along the French lines, looking at the men who would participate in the siege. There are a lot of them, three thousand, as General Carteaux promised before retreating back to the rear.

"I see that everyone is ready," Napoleon commented. "General, give the men order to charge."

General Carteaux raised his hand and waved it down. The drummers responded to the signal, their rhythmic beats filling the air with an air of anticipation. The soldiers, brimming with determination, adjusted their muskets and tightened their grips on their bayonets. With one unified motion, the French army surged forward, their boots pounding against the ground, as they began their assault on the British fort.

As they approached the fort, the British defenders unleashed a barrage of cannon fire and musket volleys, attempting to halt the advancing French forces. Smoke filled the air, obscuring the view, but the resolute soldiers pressed on, their unwavering resolve propelling them forward.

However, something was off in the charge that left Napoleon dumbfounded.

"General…why am I not seeing a full-scale assault? What are the rest of the detachment doing?" Napoleon raised his voice, demanding an answer.

"Captain, you see, the plan of yours on taking over the fort is dangerous."

"Dangerous…what? Are you fucking kidding me right now? That fort only houses thousands of men. I thought I had your word!"

"Watch your tone, Captain. I'm still the General here," Carteaux chided."General? That title doesn't even fit you so don't call yourself one," Napoleon Napoleon's eyes narrowed, his frustration boiling beneath the surface. He had trusted General Carteaux to execute his plan flawlessly, to lead the charge with unwavering commitment. Yet, here he stood, witnessing a faltering assault that lacked the full force he had envisioned.

Turning his gaze back to the battlefield, Napoleon observed the scattered movements of the troops. Some soldiers hesitated, their courage waning in the face of the British fort's fierce resistance. Others seemed disoriented and confused as things didn't go exactly as planned.

Napoleon thought that at this point, he would be able to change history, that if General Carteaux were to commit his forces, the siege of Toulon would end before winter. Yet, here they are, history repeating itself.

General Carteaux remained silent, watching as the battle unfolded before his eyes. The men who threw themselves in the frontline fell one by one from the British rifles and cannons.

"Those men who are getting killed are in your hands, General," Napoleon's voice resonated with a mix of anger and disappointment. The weight of the fallen soldiers bore heavily on his conscience, fueling his determination to salvage the dire situation.

General Carteaux flickered his gaze at Napoleon, his brows furrowing in anger.

"I had enough of your condescending attitude, Corsican," Carteaux retorted, his voice laced with bitterness. "One more word from you and you would be tried for insubordination."

"I am the one who is having enough of your cowardice," Napoleon countered. "You should resign from your position and hand it over to someone who is deserving. And you dare bring my Corsican heritage into this battle? Just how low will you stoop, General? That's it, I'm taking over the command. Sound the retreat!"

The battlefield fell into an eerie silence as Napoleon's words echoed through the air. The soldiers, caught in the midst of the chaos, turned their heads toward their commanding officers, unsure of what to make of this sudden turn of events. General Carteaux's face twisted in a mix of anger and disbelief.

"I SAID SOUND THE RETREAT!" Napoleon yelled, his voice cracking like a whip, jolting the soldiers out of their stupor. The command rang clear, and the French soldiers, though bewildered by the sudden change in leadership, responded swiftly. The sound of a bugle pierced the silence, signaling the retreat.

The soldiers began to disengage from the battle, pulling back from the British fort under the cover of smoke and chaos. From the hills, they can hear the British cheering triumphantly and throwing down mocking remarks.

"Now the fucking British are alerted. What do you think will happen now, General? This is ridiculous, changing plans at the moment of the attack."

Couldn't bear to stand next to the General, Napoleon reeled the horse around and galloped away from the battlefield. With the first offensive failing, the prolonged siege is now a guaranteed event. He had to remove General Carteaux from command and replace him with another. And so, when he returned to the tent, he ordered the staff who was operating the telegraph to deliver a message to the National Convention.He expressed in his message about General Carteaux's incompetence and lack of courage and determination. It sounded like him flaming his teammates after losing badly in the game.

As a result of the failed assault, the British realized the French plans and fortified Mont Caire with even more troops and guns. It was named Fort Mulgrave. It was so fortified that they called it Little Gibraltar.

For now, the siege is at a standstill with the French building more forts along Mont Caire for the next assault. The British tried stopping its construction by firing cannon balls at it, but the French covered it with their own artillery, firing at the British fort day and night just so the construction could be finished.

And by golly, on November 11, 1793, good news reached Napoleon's ears as the National Convention relieved General Carteaux of his command, replaced by an experienced General that Napoleon was hoping to have. Not only that, Napoleon was promoted to Major.

"Who's here that goes by the name Major Napoleon Bonaparte?" A man in his fifties entered the tent, looking around at the officers present inside.

"That would be me," Napoleon rose from his seat and extended his hand, offering a handshake. "I have been waiting for you, General Dugommier."

Unlike General Carteaux, General Dugommier was an open-minded individual who would see the potential in Napoleon's strategic vision.

"Major Bonaparte," General Dugommier nodded, shaking Napoleon's hand firmly. "I've heard of the situation. The assault on Mont Caire failed, right? While I was on my way here, I studied your plan and from what I can see, it's the best plan that you could come up with."

"It was the best, General but your predecessor lacked the courage to execute it properly," Napoleon replied.

"Now, now, no need to be bitter, Major. We can still retake Toulon. So, the plans remain the same?"

Napoleon nodded, beckoning him to come forward and to have a look at the map.

"As you can see, taking Fort l'Eguillette and Balaguier is the main winning condition for this siege. We secure these forts, and the British and Spanish ships will be in the range of our heavy cannons. But, I'm sensing that the British aren't going to wait for that. They will mobilize their land forces at Malbousquet and that is where you'll come, General."

"I see but what if we attack them first?" General Dugommier suggested. "To do so, we will need more heavy cannons and artillery. Do you have more to spare?"

Napoleon nodded. "I'll provide you with the artillery you need. For now, we will continue bombing Fort Mulgrave. I expect that this siege will end in a month."

"Hoh?" Dugommier mused. "Sounding confident huh, Major. Very well, if you say so."

With that, the French Army is once again on the move.