The first day of class has arrived and the students from all noble backgrounds arrived in their respective classrooms. Napoleon, as usual, took his seat at the end by the window. He glanced around his surroundings and noticed that his classmates looked older than him.
Well, not that it surprised him because it was expected. Two months ago, prior to the semester break, the headmaster summoned him to his office and informed him that he could skip to tenth grade, the last grade of high school. The reason for this was quite simple. The test that Napoleon took every year was topped by him, even advanced subjects that are not yet taught in his past school grades were also aced by him. This led to the decision of the board of the school that Napoleon is simply too good for his current grade level.
This caused another aberration in history. Seeing that Napoleon from his original world doesn't skip grades means history is already altered. History from his system is useless now and can only be used as a reference. He is on his own, writing his own fate in a new timeline.
Napoleon was aware of the weight of his situation. He knew that he was now on a path that was different from what was expected of him, but he was determined to make the most of it.
"Oh, so you are the kid who skipped grades huh?" said a man standing before him.
Napoleon raised his head to see who was addressing him. It was a tall and well-built man, probably in his mid-thirties, with a stern expression on his face.
"I have heard from my fellow teachers that there wasn't a subject that you couldn't excel in," the man continued. "I must admit, I am quite intrigued to see what you are capable of."
Napoleon's curiosity was piqued as he tried to discern the man's identity. He certainly looked like someone of importance, perhaps a high-ranking military official or even a government representative.
"May I ask who you are, sir?" Napoleon inquired, his gaze fixed on the man.
The man's stern expression softened into a slight smile. "Apologies for not introducing myself earlier. My name is General François de Villeneuve, and I oversee the military education program in this institution."
Napoleon's eyes widened. General de Villeneuve was renowned for his expertise in warfare and had commanded numerous battles in the past. To have him as an instructor was an immense honor.
"I've been keeping an eye on your progress, Napoleon," the general continued. "Your skills and potential have not gone unnoticed. I believe you have the makings of a great military leader."
"I am humbled by your words, General de Villeneuve," Napoleon replied, his tone respectful. "But if I may share something, acing the exams doesn't necessarily mean that I am already a great military leader. It merely reflects my aptitude for the theoretical aspects of warfare. Practical experience and leadership are equally vital, if not more so."
General de Villeneuve nodded, impressed by Napoleon's insightful response. "You're absolutely right, Napoleon. The true test of a leader lies not only in their knowledge but in their ability to apply that knowledge on the battlefield, to lead and inspire others to achieve victory. It requires courage, adaptability, and strategic thinking in the face of uncertainty."
Napoleon listened attentively, absorbing every word the general spoke. He understood that his journey was far from over and that he had much to learn beyond the confines of the classroom.
"I want to learn, sir," Napoleon said earnestly. "I want to experience firsthand the realities of war, to understand the challenges faced by commanders and soldiers alike. How can I become a leader if I have not tested my mettle in the crucible of battle?"
General de Villeneuve regarded Napoleon with a mixture of admiration and caution. He recognized the young student's thirst for knowledge and passion for the military arts, but he also understood the risks involved in exposing a student to the dangers of war.
"Napoleon, war is a harsh and unforgiving arena," the general said, his voice filled with a somber tone. "It is not something to be taken lightly. Lives are at stake, and the consequences of failure can be devastating. It is not a path to be pursued without careful consideration."
"But I have already committed myself, General. I want to serve my country and His Majesty."
General de Villeneuve paused for a moment, contemplating Napoleon's conviction. Finally, he spoke. "Very well, if you pass my subject, I'll give you a personal recommendation to Ecole Militaire where you can further your military education and training."
Napoleon's eyes widened. That was it, Ecole Militaire, was an institution known for producing some of the finest military leaders in France. It was also in that institution where the man he aspired to be graduated.
"Thank you, sir," Napoleon said, his voice filled with gratitude.
Meanwhile, as the two spoke, Napoleon's classmates looked at him with a sneer and envy.
"Hey, isn't that the Corsican kid who attracted the attention of all teachers?"
"Yeah, according to the stories, there's not an exam that he didn't ace."
The other students continued to gossip and whisper amongst themselves, casting jealous glances at Napoleon. But he paid them no mind, he was used to receiving comments from privileged brats.
"Okay, we will begin our class in Military Science," General Villeneuve clapped his hand, interrupting the murmurs of the students. They all took their seats and opened their notebooks.
The class delved into the principles of military strategy, tactics, and logistics. The general led the discussion, sharing his experiences and insights from his years of service in the army. Napoleon listened intently, absorbing every word and taking meticulous notes in his notebook.
He also delved into how the military functions, the ranks, and the formations. He also learned about the standard rifle used by the army. As expected, this world's firearms are primitive compared to modern standards. The Charleville musket, just like any musket from other countries, suffered from several issues that affected its effectiveness in battle. For one, its accuracy was poor, with most soldiers unable to hit a target at more than 50 yards. The musket also had a slow rate of fire, with soldiers only able to fire two to three rounds per minute.
In addition, the musket's long and heavy design made it difficult to carry for long distances, and its smoothbore barrel meant that the bullet could not be spun to increase its accuracy. To make matters worse, the musket was also prone to misfires and malfunctions, which could be disastrous in the heat of battle.
Napoleon recognized the limitations of the musket but also understood that it was the primary weapon used by the army at the time. He made a mental note to study the weapon in greater detail, hoping to find ways to improve its design and effectiveness.
As the class continued, General de Villeneuve discussed the importance of discipline and training in the military. He stressed the need for soldiers to follow orders without question, and for officers to lead by example and instill a sense of pride and loyalty in their troops.
Despite General de Villeneuve's enthusiasm for teaching his students, he couldn't help but notice that some of them were becoming restless. They whispered to each other and passed notes, clearly losing interest in the lecture. However, before he could chide them for their behavior, the timepiece he had placed on the table indicated that the class had just ended.
"Okay, there will be an assessment tomorrow about the topics we have discussed today," General de Villeneuve announced to the class. "Be sure to review your notes and pay attention to the details."
Napoleon packed up his notebook and quill and made his way out of the classroom. He hurriedly ran along the hallway and to the courtyard. There he saw Louis, alone in the gazebo.
He quickly made his way towards the gazebo and Louis pulled out an envelope.
"I already talked to my father about your thesis presentation to the universities that you mentioned. He said that they are willing to let you submit your paper for review, but you have to make sure it's polished and well-written," Louis said as he handed the envelope to Napoleon. "In that envelope is a cheque, 200 livres for whatever contraption you are going to build to prove your hypothesis. Make sure you pay your debts in due."
"Thank you, Louis…" Napoleon said.
Louis crossed his arms and averted his face. "Don't misunderstand me, Napoleon. I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this to gauge your capabilities. You may have aced our exams but it's different when it comes to formal papers."
Napoleon nodded, understanding Louis' motivations. He knew that Louis was a competitive person, and he respected that. He was also grateful for the financial assistance that would help him buy the materials he needed to make the machine.
"I understand, Louis. And I appreciate your help," Napoleon said.
"Get out of my sight before anyone sees me talking to you."