Blucher was destined to be unable to send reinforcements to the battlefield in the east, but reinforcements from the Guard Corps arrived quickly.
Although there were only three Cavalry Squadrons, the joining of new French forces tipped the scales, becoming the last straw that broke the camel's back.
Mula shouted at his exhausted steed to push on, his eyes set on a small group of isolated Prussian Soldiers, ready to add another entry to his record of military achievements, but then he heard a Prussian officer shouting something from a distance.
He didn't understand German very well, and turned to look at his comrade from the northeastern provinces.
"They've surrendered!" he saw the latter waving his sabre and shouting excitedly, "We've defeated 5,000 Prussians!"
Before long, cheers from the Guard Corps erupted across the entire battlefield. With over 2,000 of their troops, plus 1,600 battered Austrian soldiers from the failed campaign, they had successfully turned the tables on the large encircling Prussian force.
One could imagine that, from this point on, this unit would have an immense psychological advantage when facing Prussians again.
Experienced veterans are forged through accruing such experiences and confidence, eventually transforming into something more.
Yet Mula seemed somewhat unhappy; although he had already captured six enemies, enough for a medal, this was still four enemies short of fulfilling the boast he had made...
Meanwhile, on another part of the battlefield, the Guard Corps had completed their encirclement of Maximilian.
Joseph was not in a hurry to order his troops to attack, for if they crushed the Prussian Army here and then remained idle, it would seem a bit "performed."
Seeing the Crown Prince was now at ease, Kesode hurriedly came over to remind him, "Your Highness, Captain Buonaparte is still outside waiting for you..."
"Oh, I almost forgot," Joseph patted his forehead, "please invite him in quickly."
Suddenly, Napoleon, his face still smudged with the black soot of gunpowder, was brought into the officers' tent.
He quickly scanned the few people in the tent and then saluted Joseph, "Honored Crown Prince, thank you for sending the Imperial Guard as reinforcements. In fact, you have saved the lives of my entire artillery unit."
"It's nothing," Joseph said with a smile, gesturing for him to sit down on a chair and then motioning to Eman, "Please make a cup of tea for Captain Buonaparte, he's earned today's greatest merit."
Bertier chimed in from the side, "The artillery position that Captain Buonaparte chose was simply brilliant. How did you notice that spot?"
"This..." the young Napoleon touched his nose shyly, "I don't know, I just felt it would bring victory. It's more of an intuition, I guess."
The officers in the tent all showed a smile, clearly thinking that this artillery commander had guessed his way through, while only Joseph knew that Napoleon was no blind man catching a dead mouse; his ability to select artillery positions was truly unmatched in all of Europe!
Historically, Napoleon had repeatedly used superbly chosen cannon positions to push the theory of massed artillery tactics to perfection, helping him win one seemingly impossible victory after another.
And now Joseph had brought the massed artillery tactics to the Guard Corps ahead of schedule, providing Napoleon with the opportunity to display his innate skills.
Joseph then looked at Bertier, "Chief of General Staff, I think with Captain Buonaparte's contribution to this battle, he should be promoted to Major, shouldn't he?"
In reality, he could have promoted Napoleon directly to a Colonel, but the young man still needed to accumulate combat experience. Historically, Napoleon rose through the ranks too quickly, which led to a lack of solid foundation, to the extent that he had to "return to the forge" to study military knowledge again.
Therefore, Joseph decided to let Napoleon personally experience every officer rank in the army, allowing him to grow more steadily. This could only be beneficial for him, with no downsides.
In addition, the Corsican nationalism is still causing trouble, making Napoleon control too many military resources, which could potentially be funneled to support the Corsican rebels.
Joseph sighed inwardly, realizing that resolving the issue of Corsican independence needed to be placed on the agenda, especially regarding the leader of Corsican Nationalism, Pascal Paoli. He wondered if the intelligence bureau had made any progress, as he had instructed them to keep an eye on that man several months ago.
Bertier responded with a smile, "Yes, Your Highness, I will expedite the signing of Major Buonaparte's promotion document. Oh, he should also receive a Silver Iris Medal."
Joseph looked at Napoleon, who was beaming with joy, and then gave Bertier further instructions, "I'd like you to arrange for his battalion commander to find a moment to personally visit his home and announce the good news of his decoration and promotion."
"As you command, Your Highness."
And so, the artillery battalion commander, Lacoste, unexpectedly received the privilege of an "official leave" to Corsica.
As Joseph and his staff were discussing Napoleon's brilliant artillery fire, a voice at the entrance of the tent called, "Report!" An officer came in and announced loudly, "Your Highness, the Chief of the General Staff, the Prussian Army has surrendered."
Joseph glanced at his pocket watch; it was only 5 o'clock in the afternoon. He had hoped to use this Prussian force to hold out until the next day, which would have certainly allowed Blucher to escape back to Liege.
"Very well," he motioned to Bertier, "I'll leave the matter of accepting their surrender to you."
After he finished speaking, he suddenly remembered something and asked a nearby staff officer, "Any news from Major Mason?"
"Not yet, Your Highness."
Several kilometers away, the commander of the Guard Corps, Major Mason, watched the trembling Dutch soldiers inside the encirclement, put down his binoculars with a yawn, and turned to ask his staff officer, "Haven't they come yet?"
"Not yet, commander."
Mason shook his head; if it hadn't been for the Crown Prince's orders, these Dutch would have already become prisoners.
Suddenly, a Cavalry Scout rushed over and signaled to him, "Commander, there's a Netherlands army approaching from the southwest, about a thousand strong."
Mason immediately perked up, telling his staff officer, "They've finally arrived."
However, the officer was somewhat surprised, "But Liege is to the northwest; why are they coming from the south?"
"Who knows?" Mason adjusted his military jacket and instructed, "Make sure everyone plays their part convincingly. This mission comes directly from the orders of the Crown Prince himself."
Two kilometers away from Mason's troops, a middle-aged man dressed in a South Netherlands army uniform, with a double chin and receding hairline, wiped sweat from his forehead and said to an officer beside him, "Major Acht, please launch the attack immediately."
The robust officer beside him was taken aback; the Deputy Speaker Weng Ke had been cowardly throughout the journey, even ordering a four-mile detour to the south due to hearing distant cannon fire, to reinforce General Witte.
And now, facing a French force larger than his own, he was unexpectedly ready to launch a full assault.
What he didn't know was that Weng Ke was able to bring him here to reinforce the encircled Netherlands army because Joseph had sent someone to inform him.