Reincarnated as Napoleon



Ciela held onto Napoleon's arm tightly as they strolled towards the exit, a sense of admiration in her voice.

"Congratulations on yet another astounding achievement. Truly, you surpass the Napoleon I studied in my world's history."

Napoleon chuckled modestly, shaking his head. "I wouldn't go as far as to claim that. The Napoleon you idolize accomplished remarkable feats that inspired awe. We may differ in our own unique ways."

A mischievous smile played on Ciela's lips. "Well, that's true. Considering I'm granting you a glimpse into the future, I'd say you have the advantage." She couldn't help but giggle. "But tell me, do you think the National Convention would be open to our unexpected visit?"

Napoleon's eyes gleamed with confidence. "If we present them with a promising new weapon, they would undoubtedly welcome us with open arms. France is currently facing the combined forces of European monarchies — Spain to the South, Britain to the North, Austria to the East, and Naples in...well, it wouldn't matter anymore once France started adopting this rifle…"

As he was saying that, a concerned expression etched Ciela's face.

"What's the matter?" Napoleon asked.

"I think introducing this weapon early on in this era would radically change the course of history. Things are unfolding the same as of now but in the future, it might not be…Though not that I'm worried, I'm sure with those weapons, the French would dominate any nation it faces. It's just that…" Ciela trailed off, finding the right words to continue. "I'm worried that you might not be the Napoleon I want you to become…"

"What do you want me to become?" Napoleon stopped and turned his face towards her.

"I want you to become the Emperor of France! I know I'm sounding a bit idealistic, but the Napoleon I've studied in history books was more than just a brilliant military strategist. He was a visionary leader who brought stability, implemented reforms, and left a lasting legacy. Sure he made some mistakes but in this world, I can guide, support you, and help you avoid those pitfalls," Ciela explained. "I knew it from when we first met, that you are as ambitious as him."

Based on her words alone, Napoleon could tell that Ciela has an obsession with the real Napoleon Bonaparte. But he was not the real Bonaparte, he was just a dude in the 21st century who happened to reincarnate in the body of Napoleon. To be honest, this is sounding off to him.

"Ciela…you keep mentioning Napoleon Bonaparte from your world, and I said to you many times that I'm not him as our history differs. Before we go, I want to ask you, do you love the Napoleon Bonaparte in your world, or do you love the Napoleon that is standing next to you now?"

Ciela looked at Napoleon, her eyes searching his face for a moment. She took a deep breath, her expression softening with genuine affection.

"Napoleon, I understand that you're not the exact replica of the historical figure I've studied. But in my heart, I've come to appreciate the person you are—the qualities that make you unique. Your ambition, intelligence, and the way you've adapted to this new world are what draw me to you."

A mixture of relief and warmth spread across Napoleon's features. He reached out and gently brushed his hand against Ciela's cheek.

"And what about you, Ciela?" Napoleon asked softly, his voice filled with anticipation. "Do you love the man who stands before you, regardless of his historical identity?"

Ciela smiled, her eyes sparkling with affection. She placed her hand on top of Napoleon's and leaned into his touch.

"I love the man who stands before me, Napoleon," she replied. "I apologize if I keep mentioning him, but it's because he was the inspiration that led me to you. In my world, Napoleon Bonaparte was a symbol of ambition, intellect, and resilience. And now, here you are, embodying those very qualities in your own unique way."

"Well, Ciela, I do dream of leading France and making it better than what the current government is doing," Napoleon said thoughtfully. "There are a lot of things that need to be fixed. However, the question of whether I should become an Emperor in the future is not yet clear to me. I must consider the rights and legitimacy of such a position. After all, I was not even born French. I was born in Corsica, which was invaded by France a year prior to my birth. Perhaps it would be more fitting for me to start by aspiring to become a president. This decision is not solely driven by your dreams or hopes for me, but rather one I have carefully contemplated on my own. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Ciela nodded, her eyes filled with understanding and respect. She tightened her grip on Napoleon's arm, standing by his side as they continued walking.

"Great."

Finally, the two arrived at the carriage.

***

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the Tuileries Palace, the headquarters of the National Convention.

As they stepped out of the carriage, Napoleon extended his hand to Ciela, assisting her as she alighted gracefully. With the leather case containing the rifle securely in his left hand, he guided Ciela toward the entrance of the Tuileries Palace. As they approached the gate, two guards raised their hands, signaling them to halt.

"I'm sorry Monsieur, Mademoiselle, only authorized personnel are allowed to enter the premises," the guard said.

"Do you not see me wearing the uniform of the French Army? I'm Brigadier General Napoleon Bonaparte."

"Napoleon Bonaparte…" the guard repeated. "Were you the one who led the successful siege of Toulon?"

"Yes, that is indeed me," Napoleon confirmed. "We want to see the Committee of Armaments, Powder, and Mining. We have something to show them. It's urgent, soldier."

The guard exchanged a quick glance with his companion before nodding in acknowledgment.

"Very well, Brigadier General Bonaparte. I will inform the committee of your arrival. Please wait here for a moment."

Napoleon and Ciela stood patiently as the guard disappeared into the grand entrance of the Tuileries Palace.

Moments later, the guard returned accompanied by an officer dressed in a formal military uniform. The officer approached Napoleon with a respectful nod.

"Brigadier General Bonaparte, I am Captain Laurent, in charge of security. I have been informed of your request to see the Committee of Armaments, Powder, and Mining. Follow me, please."

Napoleon and Ciela followed Captain Laurent through the entrance and into the opulent halls of the palace.

Finally, they reached a grand chamber where the Committee of Armaments, Powder, and Mining convened. The room was filled with delegates engaged in intense discussions and debates. They turned their attention to Napoleon as he entered, their curiosity evident.

Napoleon took a moment to assess the room before stepping forward, his voice resonating with authority. "Gentlemen, I am Napoleon Bonaparte, Brigadier-General in the French Army currently stationed in the Army of Italy."

"Is that so?" A man stood up, locking eyes with Napoleon. "I am Lazare Carnot, the head of this committee. I have heard of your remarkable achievements in Toulon and Saorgio. Your military prowess is truly impressive. Furthermore, your inventive mind has contributed significantly to our nation, particularly with the introduction of the telegraph, revolutionizing long-distance communication. Now, pray tell, why do you seek an urgent audience with us?"

"I came here to show you this rifle," Napoleon brought the leather case forward and carefully opened it, revealing the Norwegian krag–jørgensen 1895.

"That's too short to be a musket," Carnot interrupted, examining the rifle with curiosity.

"Well, it is indeed shorter than our current standard-issue rifle, the Charleville musket. But don't focus on its appearance, focus on its performance. If I may, can I demonstrate it on the palace grounds?"

The members of the committee exchanged skeptical glances, unsure of what to make of Napoleon's proposal. Lazare Carnot, the head of the committee, stroked his chin thoughtfully before responding.

"Very well, Brigadier General Bonaparte," Carnot said cautiously. "If you believe this rifle possesses superior performance, then I am willing to witness its capabilities firsthand. However, let me make it clear that we are open to innovation, but we must thoroughly evaluate any new weapon before endorsing its adoption by the French Army."

Napoleon nodded, appreciating Carnot's cautious approach. "Of course, Monsieur Carnot.

Thirty minutes later, the committee was stunned at the performance of the rifle. The repeating bolt-action rifle had exceeded their expectations. Its accuracy, range, and rapid-fire capabilities were unparalleled compared to the traditional muskets they were accustomed to.

"The National Convention would be pleased to hear this," Carnot said, his voice filled with awe and excitement. This weapon has the potential to turn the war in our favor. General, are you willing to sell this?"

"Of course I do. I would prefer our infantry to be armed with this rifle," Napoleon said.

"In that case, I'll inform the other members of the committee. I'll send you a telegraph once they have reached a decision," Carnot said.

"Fine by me."