I Became A Genius Of The French Royal Family [EN]: Chapter 283

283. Not You Guys Again

Field Marshal Gebhard Leberecht von Blücher, the Duke of Wahlstatt, commanded his army with a fervor he’d never felt before.

While he was known as one of Prussia’s most valiant commanders, he often faced criticism for lacking strategic acumen.

However, his men loved him because he always led from the front and genuinely cared for their well-being.

“Don’t retreat! Push them! We aren’t fighting the same French army that defeated us before! Show these Habsburg bastards, these lackeys of France, what we’re made of!”

Blücher, encouraging his troops directly at the front lines with his aggressive command style, relentlessly pushed back the Holy Roman Empire army led by Duke Karl Philipp.

Karl Philipp had experience commanding divisions, much like Henry Paget of the British army, but this was his first time leading an army of over 100,000 soldiers.

His lack of experience, coupled with declining morale among his troops, hampered his efforts.

Still, with his considerable military talent, he and his officers somehow managed to fend off the Prussian army’s fierce attacks.

Of course, their ability to even put up such a fight was largely due to the French-made muskets they were equipped with.

The French army, now arming its own troops with breech-loading rifles, had sold off a significant number of their surplus muzzle-loading muskets to their allies.

Even if these muskets were considered outdated in France, that wasn’t the case elsewhere.

At the time, nearly every country in Europe, except France, still used muzzle-loaders, and French-made muskets were known for their superior performance.

Objectively speaking, the Holy Roman Empire’s army, which couldn’t easily overwhelm Prussia even with these superior weapons, was deserving of criticism.

Karl Philipp was well aware of this, but he also considered it an unavoidable problem.

The national power of the Holy Roman Empire had been steadily declining for decades.

They had only recently begun to recover in the past few years.

The current emperor, Joseph II, was implementing various policies to reform the empire, but these were mostly focused on domestic matters.

The army was fortunate enough to receive weapons from France, but that was the extent of it.

Joseph II seemed to view paving the way for the future emperor from France as his primary duty.

It felt as though he was prioritizing long-term stability and consolidating power rather than seeking immediate victories.

However, Karl, as the army’s commander, felt nothing but frustration.

If they only had ten more years, the Prussian army wouldn’t stand a chance against them.

“By the way, does Blücher have no sense of self-preservation? What’s a field marshal doing at the front like that?”

Bullets don’t discriminate; if he were struck by a stray bullet while recklessly charging at the front, who would be responsible for the army’s morale?

Of course, if such an accident didn’t occur, Blücher’s approach was undoubtedly the best way to boost the army’s spirits.

That’s why they, despite having better equipment, were being pushed back.

“As expected, those Prussian bastards are dangerous. If we don’t thoroughly crush them now…”

He hated to admit it, but Prussia undoubtedly possessed greater national strength.

If the Holy Roman Empire had suffered as badly as Prussia, could they have endured it?

Absolutely not.

The vassal states would have broken away, and the other royal families would have sided with Prussia.

However, the Holy Roman Empire hadn’t been able to take anything from Prussia on its own, except for the territory that France had practically handed to them.

If France hadn’t been supporting them, Prussia would have already become too powerful for the Holy Roman Empire to handle alone.

“I need to make a request to His Majesty. We’ll be indebted to France once again…”

In any case, the next emperor was the crown prince, who inherited the blood of both the Habsburg and Bourbon royal families.

Some nobles within the Holy Roman Empire even hailed him as the promised child who would restore the glory of Rome.

“The French Prime Minister would also want to eliminate any country that could pose a threat to his son. I would do the same.”

Once this war concludes, Prussia must be utterly destroyed, ensuring it can never recover.

Alternatively, absorbing them into our side could be another option, and if that proves impossible, they should at least be forced to relinquish Poland.

To achieve any of this, they needed to prove their worth in this battle.

They didn’t necessarily have to annihilate the Prussian army here.

Since France was unlikely to lose to England and Russia, simply holding their ground here would suffice, wouldn’t it?

That way, they could confidently demand their share from France.

With renewed resolve, Karl stepped forward, emulating Blücher, and personally waved the military flag.

“Keep your spirits high, soldiers of the Empire! Don’t be intimidated by their momentum! This is their last-ditch effort! Maintain the offensive!”

Hoping that a stray bullet wouldn’t find him this time, Karl ran and ran, fighting for the future of the Empire.

※※※

“What? The Allied forces are joining us?”

Blücher, having finished commanding at the front lines for the day, returned to the command room, his body weary.

Soldiers could rest after battle, but as commander-in-chief, he couldn’t afford to.

In particular, their hard-fought gains could be rendered meaningless depending on the battle unfolding in the northwest, so he had to stay informed about the situation there.

“Why are the Allied forces coming to us?”

“The French army’s strength appears to be greater than anticipated. They’re concentrating their forces on our front to quickly defeat the Habsburgs and then face the French army together.”

“Is it really that simple…? France isn’t stupid.”

Even if the French army’s path to reach them was blocked, the territory of Saxony, south of Leipzig, belonged to the Holy Roman Empire.

If the French moved their troops decisively, it would be difficult for the British army to outpace them, regardless of their speed.

“No, even if they did outrun them, are the Habsburgs fools? They might have their shortcomings, but they aren’t completely devoid of intelligence. When the Allied forces arrive, they’ll naturally retreat without engaging.”

“So, they’ve sent a highly mobile cavalry unit ahead. If the cavalry disrupts the enemy’s rear and we strike the enemy’s main force in that opening, it could be effective.”

Blücher, who relied more on his instincts than meticulous strategies, never dismissed his staff officers’ opinions lightly.

He particularly trusted the advice of Scharnhorst, who had recently joined as his chief of staff.

“I see. When are the Allied cavalry expected to arrive?”

“They estimate they’ll be able to surprise the enemy’s rear in two days.”

“Then let’s resume the battle then. If we inflict a significant blow on the enemy before the French army arrives, as you said, the situation won’t be so bad for us.”

“Yes, but…”

Scharnhorst hesitated, pausing mid-sentence.

The most frustrating thing was when someone started to say something and then stopped without explaining further.

“But what? Speak plainly.”

“No, it’s probably just a needless worry.”

“No, even if it’s a needless worry, tell me anyway. The fate of Prussia hangs in the balance in this battle, so we must consider even the worst-case scenarios.”

“That… there’s a possibility that the Allied forces haven’t given us accurate information. In that case, we could suffer irreversible damage…”

Scharnhorst spoke with extreme caution, watching Blücher’s reaction.

Depending on the context, this could be interpreted as a highly sensitive statement.

Blücher immediately understood what Scharnhorst was implying.

Both Blücher and Scharnhorst had been present during the nightmarish defeat of Prussia by Napoleon in the past.

At that time, the British army had betrayed Prussia in a way that defied belief.

Scharnhorst and Blücher, still haunted by those memories, couldn’t help but experience a form of PTSD [Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder].

“…Do you think there’s a high chance of that happening?”

“Surely that can’t be the case. This time, not only the British army but also the Russian army are involved, with a total of 200,000 troops. They must be serious.”

“That’s right. Back then, only a small number came, barely enough to be called support, so it was easy for them to withdraw.”

Things were different now.

In fact, the Allied forces had bravely engaged in actual combat with the French army, hadn’t they?

Besides, they had sent troops because they were intimidated by Prussia’s threats.

There seemed to be no reason for them to betray them now.

“Then let’s resume the attack early in two days as planned. Give the officers their instructions in advance.”

“Yes!”

Exactly two days later, Blücher, judging that his unit’s condition had sufficiently recovered, immediately resumed the offensive.

“Children of Germania! Kill, kill, and kill the enemy again! Soon, the Allied cavalry will strike their flanks!”

Regardless of the recent trend in warfare that considered cavalry as mere fodder for infantry in formation, that only applied when the infantry was properly formed.

Even if armed with guns and cannons, if they didn’t establish a proper anti-cavalry formation, they would be crushed by the cavalry’s charge.

Therefore, Blücher’s strategy was simple.

Keep pushing so that the enemy couldn’t form a proper anti-cavalry formation, and use all available cavalry to disrupt the enemy’s formation.

“Now, hold on a little longer! Soon, the goddess of victory will smile upon us!”

Ta-ta-ta-tang! Kwa-kwa-kwang!

“Die! Die! You weak bastards!”

“Don’t give in to those ethnic supremacists! Fight back!”

A total of over 200,000 troops fought fiercely across the battlefield, the air thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder, and the ground stained with blood.

Amidst the hellish scene, Blücher shouted at the top of his lungs, encouraging his soldiers.

Finally, around midday.

The angel who was scheduled to arrive on the battlefield appeared.

The angel of death.

“They’re finally here!”

Blücher’s face lit up as he saw the enormous dust cloud, easily recognizable even from a distance.

At that scale, it had to be at least tens of thousands of people.

This would provide the leverage needed to drive the enemy away in one fell swoop…

“But why are they coming from a different direction than we discussed in advance?”

Originally, they were supposed to attack, targeting the enemy’s flanks.

But the dust cloud was heading directly towards them, no matter how one looked at it.

If that happened, the element of surprise would be greatly diminished, wouldn’t it?

They must have been aware of that, and prepared countermeasures, but a faster attack was always better.

“Why is Marshal Kutuzov making such a mistake…?”

But dozens of seconds later.

“Something terrible has happened!”

A scream filled with horror erupted from the front lines.

“They aren’t our allies! It’s France! It’s the French cavalry!”

“What? Why is the French cavalry coming from there! Where is the British army! Where is the Russian army!”

“I, I don’t know! Marshal! Issue a response order first…!”

“Th, this… God! First, form up the right 6th Brigade and 7th Brigade! Prevent their cavalry from breaking through our lines! Gunners! Aim at the approaching cavalry!”

Blücher gave instructions instinctively, even though he was half out of his mind.

At the same time, even amidst the chaos, his mind began to grasp the situation.

Judging by the French army’s trajectory, they couldn’t have avoided encountering the Allied cavalry.

Therefore, a battle must have occurred, but the scale of the French cavalry wasn’t indicative of a force that had just fought.

If tens of thousands of cavalry had truly engaged in battle, they couldn’t have arrived at this time.

The only logical conclusion was…

“…Again. Are you pulling this ridiculous stunt again?”

The Allied forces’ defense line being breached.

The blood of his subordinates splattering, and the terrible screams.

“You bastards!”

Blücher’s bitter and sorrowful cry echoed across the battlefield.

End of