The Confratation is Nearing

At Prince Bruno's Estate, all of the military staffers in the Island of Corse were gathered. Prominent figures such as Captain Duval, General Berthold, and other military officers.

"Thank you for gathering here for this critical discussion," Bruno said, his eyes sweeping across the military personnel. "We have now a chance of crushing the rebellion that had plagued this island. Now, as for the plan, the two ships of the line that we have here will conduct naval bombardment off the coast of Cervo, where you will attract the main defenders of the fort to you. You will bombard their fort for two days, and they will think that we are simply bombarding them while our main troops will land near Cervo undetected through our frigates and breach the fort while the main forces are distracted." 

General Berthold leaned forward, his weathered face set with determination. 

"Your Highness, the plan is bold, but timing will be everything. If our landing party is detected prematurely, the defenders could regroup and repel the assault before we breach their gates."

Bruno nodded. "Exactly why precision and coordination will be our priorities. Captain Duval," he turned to the navy officer, "your ships must maintain constant fire on the fort to ensure the enemy's attention is entirely on the coast. The bombardment must appear relentless."

Duval straightened, his uniform crisp as he replied. "Understood, Your Highness. We'll keep their defenders pinned and disoriented. Our gunners are well-trained, and the ships' crews are prepared."

Bruno's gaze shifted to Berthold. "General, your role is equally critical. You will lead the landing party. The moment the frigates drop anchor near the secondary landing site, you must move swiftly and silently. Speed will be our greatest weapon."

Berthold gave a curt nod. "Consider it done, Your Highness. The men have been drilled extensively in stealth operations. We'll strike before the enemy knows we've arrived."

One of the younger officers raised his hand hesitantly. "Your Highness, what about their scouts along the coastline? If the rebels have patrols near the landing site, it could jeopardize the entire operation."

Bruno acknowledged the concern with a slight tilt of his head. "I've considered that. We'll deploy a small team of sharpshooters and scouts ahead of the landing party. Their task will be to neutralize any patrols quietly. They'll clear the way for the main force."

The officer nodded, reassured by the answer.

Another voice spoke up—Captain Ricard, one of the artillery specialists. "What about the explosives, Your Highness? Will they be part of the landing force?"

"Yes," Bruno confirmed. "Elias and his team have prepared charges specifically designed to breach the fort's gates. These will be carried by the engineering detachment accompanying the main force. The gates must fall quickly to maintain the element of surprise."

General Berthold spoke again. "I must say sir, I am duly impressed with the strategic planning that you have made. It's easy but effective. Let's just hope our plan survives enemy contact."

"What are you talking about, General Berthold? No plan can survive enemy contact," Bruno replied, a faint smirk crossing his face. "But a good plan allows for adaptability. We have contingencies in place, and the men are trained to think and act decisively. That will be our strength."

Berthold gave a slight nod, a look of respect flashing in his eyes. "As you say, Your Highness. I'll make sure the men are ready to adjust as needed."

Bruno turned his attention back to the table, where the map of Fort Cervo and the surrounding coastline lay spread out. He pointed to a marked section of the coastline, a narrow cove shielded by jagged cliffs. "This is where the frigates will anchor and deploy the landing party. The cove will provide cover, but the terrain is rough. The troops must move quickly and stay quiet."

Captain Duval leaned forward, studying the map. "The ships of the line will maintain their positions here," he said, tracing his finger along the waters just off the fort's main defenses. "The bombardment will draw their attention, but if the wind changes or visibility becomes poor, it could complicate our maneuvers."

"That's why timing is critical," Bruno interjected. "The landing force must coordinate with the naval bombardment. We cannot afford delays or miscommunication. The entire operation hinges on synchronization. That will be all. Make your final preparations and ensure our men are fully equipped and ready before the planned date."

The officers nodded in unison, saluting sharply before filing out of the room, their faces set with determination. The sound of boots echoed against the stone walls as they dispersed to carry out their respective tasks. Only Antoine remained, who had been silent the entire discussion.

"Antoine."

"Yes Your Highness."

"I'm curious, don't we get an update from Elysea?" Bruno asked. He was curious about the development of the capital in the mainland but so far, ever since he was transmigrated in this world, there was no report regarding their situation.

"There's none Your Highness. I'm sure everything is alright over there. If something serious had happened, we would certainly be informed by our messengers," Antoine replied respectfully.

"Is that so?" Bruno hummed in understanding. "My father has sent me to this island to prepare me for something unexpected, like you know my brothers not being able to ascend to the throne. I should give them updates of what's happening over here."

"That's a wise decision, Your Highness," Antoine praised. "What would you like me to write?"

Antoine tilted his head slightly, waiting for Bruno's response.

Bruno leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "Write that we are on the verge of bringing order to Corse. The rebellion will be crushed. I want my father to know that, despite the limited military presence here, we have turned the tide. This achievement, I believe, is worthy of recognition."

Antoine nodded, pulling out a small leather-bound notebook and a quill from his satchel. "Shall I emphasize your leadership and the strategic planning that made this possible, Your Highness?"

Bruno waved a hand dismissively. "Focus on the results. Let the success of this campaign speak for itself. My father values outcomes, not words of self-praise."

"As you wish, Your Highness," Antoine replied, dipping the quill into a small inkpot. "Anything else you'd like me to include?"

"Ask him how he is," Bruno simply added. "Show him that I cared about him."

"Very well, Your Highness."