Grape shot swept through the Austrian formation.
Napoleon found he was enamored with the sensation of watching enemies fall in droves.
"Reload!" Napoleon shouted as he took it upon himself to load the cannon.
This was mainly because all the artillerymen from the fort’s defense force were stationed at the fort, and Napoleon had brought solely infantrymen, who were not trained in loading cannons and did not have the practiced ease of Napoleon.
But now no one was in a position to be commenting on the sight of the commander himself loading the cannonballs, as all the infantrymen had already charged and were locked in close combat with the Austrians.
After Napoleon finished loading, he looked up and realized firing was not an option, as his men and the Austrian troops were completely intermingled.
His last firing had been lucky.
"Damn it!" Napoleon cursed in Corsican dialect, pulled out the military flag that had been planted beside the cannon, and charged into the melee.
The few soldiers who had been manning the cannon with him closely followed.
An Austrian soldier, desperate and directionless, charged toward Napoleon but was swiftly kicked to the ground.
"Your stance isn’t stable!" Napoleon, in high spirits, jabbed the end of the flagpole into the grounded Austrian soldier.
Napoleon bellowed, "Engage them in hand-to-hand combat! For France! Damn it, why are they so resilient? Usually, they should be retreating by now!"
Napoleon’s impression of hand-to-hand combat was different from that of other European generals, who typically thought that once the bayonets were bloodied the fight was nearly over, without much longer real sword-and-shield grappling.
In Napoleon’s experience, a 20-minute melee was usually enough to break the enemy, and if the French Army was on the defensive, they could last longer, but the battle would generally end within 40 minutes.
In Italy, this was the case: a ten to twenty-minute clash in offensive operations and the enemy would crumble; the French army, while on defense, could last up to thirty to forty minutes.
Just then, Napoleon suddenly heard the bugle call from the Austrian side—it was the charge signal.
He was utterly astonished as if witnessing the unbelievable: "Not only have the Austrians not retreated, but they even dare to launch an attack on my troops?"
This signal of attack was like breathing a great gasp of air into the Austrians as they were on the verge of suffocation.
The already faltering Austrian troops, motivated by the charge signal, continued the hand-to-hand combat with the French.
Napoleon saw a tall, thin general riding through the chaos, slashing and shouting something as he went.
Napoleon, carrying the French military flag, charged at that general.
The general also saw Napoleon and immediately turned his horse, galloping towards him!
Napoleon thought to himself: Just like that, I will cut down the enemy officer in this standoff, becoming the final straw that tips the balance!
Just like the heroes in various ballads!
Napoleon broke into a sprint, running straight toward the charging steed.
At this moment, a ray of sunlight broke through the gloom in the sky.
The light fell right between Napoleon and the approaching general, like a spotlight in a theatre.
It was as if someone in the heavens was watching this battle, forever marking the stage with this beam of celestial light.
The galloping Austrian general cried out, "The one to cut you down from horseback is Carl Ludwig Johann Lorenz, an Austrian general, the Duke of Teschen, the Emperor’s brother!"
Napoleon also shouted back, "Napoleon Bonaparte, from Corsica!"
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to brag about a longer, more pompous title, like "Honored Friend and Pupil of Duke Frost, the Follower of Contemporary Caesar" or the like, but there was no time.
In the moment they crossed, Napoleon knelt and plunged the long flagpole into the chest of the charging horse.
Due to the tremendous impact, the flagpole broke instantly.
The horse, unable to stop its forward momentum, tumbled headfirst and then fell to its side.
The Knight’s horse sword was already swung, and it should have been a lose-lose ending—
Yet at this moment, a critical factor played a decisive role.
Napoleon was rather short.
The horse sword brushed past his forehead.
Grand Duke Carl fell off his horse, headfirst to the ground.
Napoleon discarded the already broken flagpole, switched the long sword he was holding in both hands to his right, and charged towards the fallen Austrian General.
Then he discovered there was no need to fight anymore, as the dismounted Austrian General had already passed out.
Napoleon yanked off the sash from his body—this sash was proof of membership of the Royal Family.
He attached the sash to the tip of the sword, and raised it high.
"Austrians, your General has died in battle!"
However, no one noticed amidst the chaotic battlefield, so Napoleon pulled over a French soldier who had just stabbed a bayonet into an Austrian’s chest: "Come, I am your Commander, yell with me: Austrians, your General has died in battle!"
The soldier then shouted along.
And then more and more of the French Army began to shout loudly.
The Austrians stopped, bewildered, and looked this way.
Napoleon finally realized a key issue: Austrian nobles understood French, but privates didn’t!
The privates were now totally confused.
Just then, Napoleon saw an Austrian officer lying on the ground who seemed to still be breathing, so he pulled him up: "I ask you, how do you say ’Austrians, your General is dead’ in German?"
The Austrian spat in Napoleon’s face, and then saw the sash on Napoleon’s sword, consequently instantly revealing a look of utter despair, and repeated "your General is dead" in German.
Napoleon immediately parroted: "Austrians, your General is dead!"
The people around him also shouted: "Your General is dead!"
In no time, all the French forces, whether from the fortress or coming to the rescue, were shouting: "Your General is dead!"
Because German and French are from different language families, the pronunciation of the French was strange, but it was enough to be understood.
The melee stopped in an instant, the French were shouting, and the Austrians, like wind-up toys that had finally run out of energy, all stopped.
Napoleon was feeling happy, when suddenly he heard a noise beside him, turned his head to see the fallen Austrian General trying to get up.
He quickly punched Carl in the face.
Poor Grand Duke Carl fell again.
Napoleon’s face was twisted, because he’d used too much force in that punch, hurting his knuckles.
The Austrian’s greatest infliction upon Napoleon Bonaparte in the entire battle, came from their Commander Grand Duke Carl—his face!
At this time, the Austrians began to drop their guns one after another, raising their hands.
The French Army erupted in overwhelming cheers.
Excited soldiers rushed towards Napoleon, lifted him up, and threw him high into the sky.
Some were shouting: "Long live the Colonel!"
"What Colonel, long live the General!"
"Long live the General!"
"Long live General Napoleon Bonaparte!"