Egyptian Campaign(1798-1799). Prologue.

Beside a mountain cliff, a figure, noble in stature, stood gazing at the battlefield, a tranquil shore of the ocean stretching beyond. His eyes betrayed a vacant contemplation, akin to an observer detached from the world.

"Sire, you said there's nothing to do, yet we are winning. How is this possible, and more importantly, what should we do now that we are winning?" inquired a soldier with light brown hair, his expression blending joy, fear, and awe.

At the soldier's question, the noble figure's eyes flickered, and then he sighed.

As the nobleman sighed, impatience crept into the brown-haired soldier. What could he say?

The noble figure, of small stature, turned with an expressionless face to face the soldier. "There's—" he began, eyes lifting to the skies, "nothing we could do."

Baffled, the soldier stared at the nation's mighty figure – none other than Napoleon Bonaparte.