Taming Napoleon Bonaparte

"When once the mélée is begun, the man who is clever enough to bring up an unexpected force of artillery without the enemy knowing it, is sure to carry the day." - Napoleon Bonaparte

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"Cristian died?!? How?!?" Adrian was shocked to hear the news from Luca, who appeared extremely frightened. This was the cool, intelligent Luca Chiva. Adrian had never seen him like this.

"There's a terrible invisible assassin...I can't deal with him," Luca replied. His hands were shaking. He'd never been so close to death before. Others always fought for him while he safely commanded in the back. That was his strength, his comfort zone.

"What do we do?" Adrian asked, frowning.

Luca looked at Hecate some distance away. Her dress was nearly in tatters. She was panting, with wounds all over her body. If he joined Adrian now, they could definitely take her down within a few minutes and then escape with her, but if that assassin came...

'No, I've wanted Hecate for too long. I'm so close, I can't give up now.' Luca gritted his teeth. Just as he was about to tell Adrian to join him in subduing Hecate...

*BOOM*

Luca gazed in the direction of where he had stood with Adrian not long ago. "No..."

*CRASH!*

...

...

...

*Cough* *Cough*

*Ring*

Luca's ears were ringing as he got up off the ground. He cleared the dirt and grass from his glasses as he got his bearings and looked around. Not far away, he saw Adrian laying in the dirt, a mangled mess.

Adrian's number of broken bones couldn't even be guessed. His chest plate was dented inwards, partially destroyed with several fragments lying around him. He was only still alive because his magic shield had taken the crux of the blow. However, he was now coughing blood, severely injured.

Luca glimpsed down to make sure he wasn't wounded anywhere. Luckily, his shield hadn't been broken from any secondary impact.

*THUMP*

Luca looked up to see an ice spear had lodged into Adrian's chest, skewering him to the ground like a cold kebab. Hecate leaned against a tree, grinning fiendishly as she spat out blood. How could she let such a good opportunity pass by?

In the distance, Alex held his hand over his eyes to block the sun, trying to get a good view. "The result wasn't bad but it still missed the target. I told you to hit the other one."

Napoleon responded with his French accent, 'Master, this 12 lb Gribeauval cannon is a long-distance weapon. It fires round shot, with the strength of long range, but the weakness of rough accuracy. Even if I perfectly aim it, the impact area is too wide. Nevertheless, this is still the best cannon. Unlike real artillery, my soul weapon does not move when fired, does not require a team of half a dozen men to operate it, and can reload itself. Furthermore, the mobility..."

"Are you showing off?"

'...No, Master.' Napoleon was very proud of his belle fille, actually.

"Try modesty...Now Napopo, prepare another shot for this God."

"...It's Napoleon, Lord," he whispered.

"What did you say?"

"I said...Master, the cannon has a 60 second cooldown." Napoleon's years as a General and emperor helped him develop strong instincts. He got the feeling that despite his utility, this new master was in eager anticipation of any excuse to murder him. Napoleon was being tamed.

"Alright, from now on, I don't need to know all those details. I just need you to blast things when I say so, and don't call me Master. Who wants to be your Master? I already have a dog. I don't have time for another pet. Lord is fine." Despite this dwarf's annoying looks and temperament, Alex appreciated the power and utility of the cannon.

"...Yes, Lord."

*Tch* Alex was still watching Luca's area when he observed a terrible war crime. "That b*tch is half dead but still had the energy to kill steal." Hecate was trying to steal his leaderboard spot.

"Oh...Harry Potter is running now." Alex watched as Luca ran away toward the forest in a panic. He peered over at Devana who was struggling with Lycaon and a group of werewolves.

"It'll be trouble if she dies. Dracula, go help Devana until Hecate can get there. I'm going to kill that mobile treasure chest." Before he left, he unsummoned Napoleon's cannon and used a Seal card on the spear Cristian dropped. Alex was the type to collect all the garbage loot and sell it at the shop on every return to the village.

Alex frowned as he got closer to Adrian's body because he wouldn't have time to Seal it. Luca's figure was already barely visible, escaping into the woods. Alex gritted his teeth. 'Making me give up the common items for a chance at the epic loot...' His heart felt like it had been stabbed.

...

*Bang*

A giant werewolf with thick black hair had punched a large hole in the roof of a house. A short distance away, Devana was panting, her hands slightly shaking, exhausted from firing so many arrows in a short time. There were barely any fighters left standing on her side, over half were already dead or injured. More importantly, morale was on the verge of collapse.

The werewolves had formed an encirclement around Devana, eliminating her chance of retreat. Lycaon's large fangs dripped saliva on the ground as he showed a werewolf's version of a vicious smile. He wouldn't give her a chance to recover. He dashed in, brandishing his massive claws for their next attack.

Devana put force into her legs to dodge, but they wouldn't move. Despite being a God, she wasn't known for endurance. She had spent too much energy supporting her people with constant attacks and also dodging these werewolves. The time came to finally pay the price; She could no longer escape. Instead of simply accepting death, she unsheathed her short sword, unwilling to go down without a fight. Unfortunately, even that would be useless.

Using one swipe, Lycaon knocked her blade out of her hands. Another attack approached from above, intending to rip off her pretty face.

Devana helplessly watched the fatal approach of a set of claws the size of knives. They glistened like metal and blocked out the sun over her, giving her a glimpse of that inevitable eternal darkness...the one that was mere centimeters away.