"Hey, did you hear anything, there's movement outside!"

As the night wore on, a Sardinian soldier sat up from his bed in a daze, frowning and muttering to himself, whether it was an auditory hallucinations or a dream, for he felt as if there was a commotion in the direction of the centre of the town.

But the soldiers in the room were still snoring, and no one paid any attention to his doubts, and most of the exhausted soldiers fell asleep as soon as they lay down.

The soldier listened for a moment, and after hesitation, he shook his sleeping companion beside him:

"Don't sleep, get up and listen, it seems like there's some movement...

"Huh...? you, shake it!"

The companion who was shaken awake was stunned for a moment, then cursed, and turned over extremely impatiently, ready to hurry up and continue his sweet dream:

"What the fuck can there be, there must be some young people who can't control their lower bodies and go against the ban to rob women, what a big deal, Colonel Butlan will definitely clean them up when he gets up tomorrow, you can also go to sleep quickly, it's not common to have the opportunity to sleep in bed while marching away."

With that, his companion turned away from the soldier, and soon began to snore through his nose.

"Did I think too much..."

The soldier scratched his head, he wanted to go out and take a look to check the situation, but he immediately remembered that Colonel Butland had ordered any soldier to stay in the house tonight, and that it was strictly forbidden to go outside, and he did not want to be punished tomorrow morning with the soldiers who were robbing the people's daughters.

And just as he was about to burrow back to the bed with the remaining sleepiness, a rapidly approaching footsteps suddenly resounded outside the door.

The soldier was stunned for a moment, and the hairs on his back stood on end in an instant.

He watched in amazement as several black shadows suddenly and quickly rushed into the room, and he didn't come back to his senses for a long time, and the other sleeping companions didn't react.

In the hazy night, he could only barely see the outline of the body of this group of people, and the blade in the other person's hand, which shone with a silver light in the moonlight.

"You are...!"

He subconsciously wanted to scold loudly, but he saw that the person led by the other party raised his hand and stabbed out with a sword, coming straight to his throat.

The soldier was already slow to react due to fatigue and sleepiness, and at this time he had no weapon in his hand to resist resistance, and he could only watch in horror as the sharp blade expanded in his field of vision, completely piercing his neck in an instant.

The rest of the men who broke into the room were not idle, and they followed closely behind and pointed their sharp blades mercilessly at the barely aware Sardinian soldiers on the ground.

The sleeping Sardinian soldiers had their necks wiped or pierced through their hearts in their sleep, and in pools of blood they continued to dream a dream from which they would never wake up.

The leader drew his sword with an indifferent expression, and hurried out of the room with the others without looking back, not even having time to stay to see if the soldiers had completely died:

"Let's go, hurry up! Gotta kill as many as these Sardinians before they react!"

......

"You're about to pay for your stupidity, Konstantin, you monkey who doesn't know the height of the sky!"

In the town hall, Colonel Butland gritted his teeth and stared at Konstantin in front of him, staring at the short knife against the tip of his nose, trying to keep his head calm.

In any case, as an officer who had been promoted on the front line by solid military exploits, Colonel Butland did not lose his mind in this desperate situation, and he tried to attract Konstantin's attention and find an opportunity to escape from this place.

If he could escape and regroup, Colonel Butland would be able to reduce the town to ashes overnight and drown the damned monkey in front of him in his own urine.

"I said, shut your dog's mouth, Savoy, and honestly crouch down with your hands up!"

Konstantin cold

With a thud, he pressed the tip of his knife against Colonel Butland's face, keeping the blade slightly into the other's skin, but not too deep.

The magistrate was equally calm at this time, knowing that even if he had executed Colonel Butland here, it would be useless, and that this large Sardinian army, even if it was leaderless, was not at all something that their small town with only a few hundred militia could withstand.

The best Konstantin could think of was to send a militia to sow chaos among the Sardinian soldiers in the darkness of the night, while capturing Colonel Butland and the other officers.

In this way, the Sardinian army, which was already exhausted and in disarray, had to find another place to regroup, and the captured Colonel Batlan could make it difficult for the Sardinian army to retaliate against Propriano in a short time.

As long as he could hold up a little respite for the town and wait for the main Wehrmacht to move north, Propriano would be safe.

"Do you really dare to kill me, Corsican."

Colonel Butland stared into Konstantin's eyes and then smirked.

Although he had already suffered two major defeats in Corsica, this did not mean that he was a mediocre and incompetent officer, on the contrary, the experienced Colonel Bartland was perfectly able to see what Konstantin's plan was at the moment.

"You..."

Konstantin's brow furrowed, and he increased the force of his hand, but as the other party said, he did not dare to stab Colonel Butland in the head with this short knife right here.

He glanced at the militiamen behind him, and motioned for them to come forward and capture Butlan alive.

And the colonel also instantly noticed Konstantin's movements, and before the militia approached, he turned around and directly turned around and picked up the officer's saber on the bedtable.

Colonel Butland drew his knife out of its sheath, but instead of Constantine in front of him, the tip of the knife was aimed against his fragile carotid artery:

"Stay away from me, Corsican! I know what that little conspiracy you have in your heart to use me as a bargaining chip? Then don't act rashly for me, for if I die here, the whole town will bury me!"

"Damn!"

Konstantin spat and had to wave his hand to stop a few of his subordinates, and in his plan, only by capturing Colonel Butlan, the plenipotentiary commander, could he bring a glimmer of life to Propriano.

And Colonel Butland obviously saw this, so he dared to use his own life as a threat unscrupulously.

The two sides confronted each other nervously like this, and neither dared to make any rash moves.

Colonel Butland slowly moved to the window with a knife in hand, and with the open view of the building, he glanced out of the window with his peripheral vision:

The town, which had been peaceful and quiet at midnight, was now in complete disarray, and the militia of Propriano and the townspeople who had volunteered to join the battle were running through the streets with bloody blades, not knowing how many sleeping Sardinian soldiers they had sent into the arms of death tonight.

Due to the fact that Constantine had deliberately dispersed the Sardinian troops to all corners of the town, and because Colonel Butland had been lured into placing a grounding order on his soldiers, only a few soldiers were aware of the Corsican night attack for a while.

Even many of the Sardinian soldiers did not choose to resist after discovering that they had been attacked, and they were demoralized, believing that they were being attacked by the French pursuers from Ajaccio, and had no intention of resisting, and surrendered in formation under the leadership of the superior non-commissioned officers.

However, after nearly two hours of one-sided killing, some of the Sardinian soldiers finally noticed the anomaly without a commander and began to launch a small counterattack against the militia units.

As the scale of the battle grew, both Colonel Butland and Constantine could foresee that it would not be long before the entire Sardinian army would react from the surprise attack, and that it would be impossible for the hundreds of indiscriminate militiamen in the town to stop a regular army of several thousand men from counterattacking.

Colonel Butland, who knew that time was on his side, was even more successful

Meaningfully, he grinned and pressed the blade against his neck, waiting for his soldiers to react and rush into the town hall to rescue him.

And Konstantin's forehead suddenly flowed several beads of sweat the size of beans, and if Butlan was not captured immediately, the whole town would surely fall into a state of no return:

"We can't put it off any longer... Do you want to take a risk and give it a try..."

How could Colonel Butland not know what the other party was thinking at the moment, he increased the force in his hand, deliberately letting Konstantin see that the sharp blade was slightly embedded in his neck, as if with a little force, the blood gushing out would be splashed all over the ground on the spot.

And just as the saber was rattling and preparing to attack, a town militia suddenly burst in, and his voice was mixed with three points of anxiety and seven points of joy:

"Konstantin! North, direction of Ajaccio! Our reinforcements are coming!"

"What did you say?!"

Constantine and Colonel Butland were almost in unison, neither of them knowing that Ajaccio would have the strength to pursue the fleeing Sardinian force after such a devastating siege.

Colonel Butlan was even more dumbfounded, he had already confirmed during the day that the French Mediterranean Fleet had not sent armed assistance to Corsica, so where did this pursuing force come from, could it be that the Corsicans would also send the same exhausted city defense force as well?!

And just as Colonel Butland was distracted, Konstantin's eyes sank, and he instinctively flew forward, and with an elbow blow knocked off the saber that was lying across Butland's neck, and he immediately threw the colonel, who was still in a daze, to the ground, and immediately put his hands behind his back to control it.

Colonel Butland, who was suddenly struck by the blow, was dizzy for a moment, and then realized something, and shouted in annoyance:

"Despicable! Dare to use this fake news to distract me?! Well, as you will soon see, even if I am captured, it will be of no use to the city, and my soldiers will set foot on the city tonight!"

The militiaman who corresponded only indifferently glanced at Colonel Butland on the ground:

"You are wrong, son of Sardinia, this is not false news, our reinforcements have entered the outskirts of the town, and it is an army led by Lord Bonaparte himself."

"What...?!"

Colonel Butlan's face turned pale in an instant, he knew that there was no need for the other party to continue lying after he was captured, that is, Ajaccio's pursuers had really rushed to the vicinity of Propriano.

"How is this possible?"

Colonel Butland, as if he had lost his soul, his eyes scattered like a dead man, and he could not stop muttering to himself, in the short three days he had been defeated three times in a row in Corsica:

"Even if Lawrence Bonaparte had returned to Ajaccio, how could he have dared to pursue me with that city defense force and citizen levies... And why didn't my scout post report it?"

Unbeknownst to Colonel Butland, of course, was that the reconnaissance troops he had deployed around the town had already been noticed by Constantine, and the shrewd municipal magistrate took advantage of the feast with Butland to lure the scouts back to the town to join in the soldiers' drinking and gluttony.

The scouts, too, were exhausted by the intense battle march of two days and one night, and they felt a pang of grievance when they learned that the soldiers in the town could live in sheltered houses and drink heartily, while they were left to guard against an impossible pursuer in the wilderness.

Therefore, when faced with the invitation of the city officials, they did not hesitate to choose to sneak back into the town to revel, after all, such an unbridled revelry is extremely rare in military life, even if they have to be punished by Colonel Butland the next day, it is worth it for them.

Constantine's maneuver was supposed to prevent the scouts from spotting the anomaly prematurely and causing the entire Sardinian force to react quickly, but now it seems that it also allowed Ajaccio's pursuers to touch Propri unnoticed

None of the suburbs of Arnold were found by the Sardinians.

"Laurence Bonaparte, is it him again, is it him again!"

Colonel Butland's mind on the ground was blank, and only this one question kept lingering in his mind.

...

"What the hell is going on now?"

At this moment, on the streets of the town, a Sardinian non-commissioned officer rose up and cut down the Corsican militia in front of him to the ground, he wiped a handful of blood splashed on his eyes, and looked at the chaotic street in front of him, his heart was full of resentment and puzzlement:

"Where the hell have the officers gone, damn it! The rest of the troops don't know where they're stationed, so why hasn't Colonel Butland given the order yet!"

With Colonel Butland and his close officers under the control of Constantine in the town hall, the Sardinian troops, deprived of their superiors, were now completely reduced to a headless flew.

Coupled with their unfamiliarity with the terrain of the town, the soldiers had to fight on their own under the leadership of their superiors, and they had no idea what was going on here or what the other troops were doing at the moment.

But fortunately, with the absolute superiority of troops and fighting quality, the Sardinian army gradually gained the upper hand in the battle, and the small divided troops gradually gathered together.

And just as the Sardinian army was about to search for Colonel Butland and pour out their vengeful fury on the town, the tide of battle changed again:

I saw more than a thousand white-robed swordsmen pouring into Propriano from all directions, and without saying a word, they raised their long swords and joined the battle, and once again started a bloody white-knuckle street battle with this group of exhausted Sardinian soldiers.

"It's...!"

A Sardinian soldier was about to use the bayonet in his hand to block the long sword stabbed by the swordsman in front of him, but he saw that the blade of the opponent was as flexible as a snake and as fast as lightning.

The Sardinian soldiers soon discovered to their horror that they were no match for the swordsmen in hand-to-hand combat, and that many of them had not even had time to see where their blades were stabbing before blood gushed out of their chests or necks.

What's more, these soldiers were exhausted, sleepy, and panicked and confused because of the militia raid just now, even though they had a numerical advantage, but in front of these swordsmen who suddenly joined the battlefield, these Sardinia soldiers had to fall into the other party's sword one by one.

And after this overwhelming slaughter lasted for more than half an hour, looking at the white robes that were almost stained with blood on those swordsmen, a Sardinian non-commissioned officer suddenly realized something, and couldn't help but cover his mouth and exclaim:

"God, these are the Knights Hospitaller!"

The Sardinian army realized that the Order, which had been battered by the Neapolitan naval raid on the island of Malta, had been stationed on Corsican territory.

And with Lawrence Bonaparte's connection to the Order and his position as Chief Guard within the Order, he said that it was not difficult to move the Knights Hospitaller as the main force in this pursuit.

In fact, the Kingdom of Sardinia did not fail to take into account the unstable remnants of the Knights Hospitaller before carrying out its plan to raid Ajaccio.

It's just that in their calculations, the Sardinian army only needs half a day to take Ajaccio, and the Knights Hospitaller will probably not have time to reinforce Ajaccio, and once these monks who are good at wielding swords on the field battlefield, their superb swordsmanship is useless in the face of muskets, and there is no need to worry at all.

But none of the Sardinian officers could have imagined that they would fight this group of monks who had been practicing swordsmanship for more than ten years in another fierce white-knuckle battle.

And this was not the most desperate for the Sardinian army, which was followed by another piece of news that made the non-commissioned officers and soldiers present completely give up the idea of resistance:

An army of more than 3,000 men, led by Lawrence Bonaparte, had arrived in Propriano and besieged the entire town.

If the Sardinian army was in good gear waiting for the arrival of the Corsican army, they might

There was also confidence in fighting with it, but at this moment the Sardinian army stationed in the town was itself on the verge of collapse:

The officers of the upper ranks were nowhere to be found, presumably having been captured by the enemy; The chain of command is completely chaotic, and there is still no officer who can convince the people to stand up and lead the whole army; The soldiers were already sleepy and lacking, and their morale was broken, and at this moment they had to start a fierce white-knuckle battle with a group of top swordsmen; They could not even retreat, and Lawrence Bonaparte had already led his army to surround the entire town.

In the face of such a desperate situation, even those famous military gods in history will probably frown when they see it, and suddenly feel troublesome, not to mention these middle and low-ranking non-commissioned officers of the Kingdom of Sardinia present.

After a short but heated discussion, the Sardinian non-commissioned officers had no choice but to make a collective decision with grief and resentment:

They ordered all the soldiers to abandon their weapons and give up resistance, and then sent several non-commissioned officers with their hands tied as representatives to surrender to Lawrence Bonaparte at the Corsican positions outside the town.

Since then, as the non-commissioned officers have been escorted by the knights to the center of the Corsican army, nearly a third of the standing army of the Kingdom of Sardinia has been officially declared completely annihilated on Corsican soil.

Having confirmed the true willingness of the Sardinian army to surrender, Lawrence immediately ordered the French garrison and the Central Gendarmerie Corps to enter Propriano, where they began to clean up the battlefield and receive the nearly 6,000 prisoners.

Although these two forces, like the Sardinian army, did not get enough rest, they were more than enough to carry out such a simple task as cleaning up the battlefield.

Lawrence ordered these two troops to pursue them mainly to bluff and intimidate the exhausted Sardinian army, and the main force of the battle still relied on the monks of the Knights Hospitaller.

As the Corsican army entered Propriano, the fire that had been burning in the town all night was finally extinguished, and although a small number of Sardinian soldiers did not receive the order to surrender or chose to resist stubbornly, they were quickly suppressed by the Corsican army.

At dawn on June 26, Propriano returned completely to the arms of the Corsicans.

Accompanied by a group of officers, Lawrence Bonaparte entered the town of Propriano for the second time on a white horse with a bright coat.

The morning sun of sunrise pierced the fog and shone on Lawrence's blonde hair, and the bits of golden light that followed seemed to converge into a wonderful pattern above his head—as if it were a Cesar laurel made of brilliant golden light.

As Lawrence and Corsican soldiers entered the town, the inhabitants felt that they had a real dawn.

The people who survived the catastrophe walked out of their homes, almost all of them in tears, and the townspeople flocked to the main thoroughfare of the town to watch with the most admiration and adoration as their leader rode slowly in the golden morning light, holy and majestic.

Little George, who was at the front of the crowd, stared intently at Lawrence on horseback, and his gaze was even more than ten times more reverent than when he prayed in church.

And the reason why they admired this leader so much was not because of the overwhelming publicity, nor because of the legends that were both true and false, but simply because the Prime Minister Bonaparte in front of them brought them everything that they had never had before.

Constantine, the thin monkey, also led a group of city officials, and waited on the main road of the town with the group of Sardinian officers who had been tied up with flowers.

Seeing the adult who had brought freedom and liberation to him with his own hands appear in front of him, the corners of the thin monkey Konstantin's eyes couldn't help but moisten, and he knew that his heart, which had worked all night for Propriano, could finally be completely let go at this moment.

"Lord Bonaparte...!"

He hurried forward excitedly, bowed to Lawrence on horseback, and recounted to Lawrence briefly what had happened in the town.

"I see... No wonder the Sardinian army was in chaos before we arrived."

After listening to Konstantin's description, Lawrence looked at the unattractive man in front of him

A few hints of approval.

In the previous siege of the ancient fortress of the landlord group, it was this man who had the courage to lead the serf army in an uprising and voluntarily submit to the government army, and now he was able to stir up the entire Sardinian army with the strength of hundreds of militiamen with his cunning and wisdom, so it seems that this is indeed a rare talent.

Had it not been for the unexpectedly chaotic disarray of the Sardinian army in the town, Lawrence would have been ready for a field battle with them.

Although Lawrence was still sure that he would be able to defeat the exhausted Sardinian army head-on with the Knights Hospitaller's monks, the combination of Constantine and Constantine saved Lawrence many of the necessary sacrifices.

After mentally scribbling down Constantine's name, Lawrence turned his gaze to the disheveled and unkempt Colonel Butland behind him.

Lawrence, having fought at the Battle of Bonifacians a year earlier, was still somewhat impressed by his appearance, and could identify by the features of his clothing as the Supreme Commander of the Sardinian army:

"You're Butland, aren't you?"

Colonel Butland, who was called by his name, shuddered.

Previously, he was able to hold the knife to his neck bravely in front of Konstantin, partly because he insisted that Konstantin would not dare to kill him directly, and partly because he looked down on the ugly city magistrate as a monkey from the bottom of his heart.

But now, in front of Lawrence Bonaparte, the superior who held the power of life and death in his own hands, Colonel Butland instantly lost the majesty of a few hours ago, and he was even trembling all over his body, and he could barely lift himself.

The young man in front of him was the one who had taken away all his position and given him a lifelong disgrace, and Colonel Butland had thought day and night of slaying this undying enemy himself, even at the cost of all his resources in exchange for the opportunity to command the advance force of the Kingdom of Sardinia.

However, at this moment, Lawrence Bonaparte, with whom he had a blood feud, stood five yards in front of him, and Colonel Butland could not mention the slightest hatred, and his heart was completely wrapped in boundless fear.

Although he knew that he would not be punished with life imprisonment even if he returned to his homeland, he would be infinitely better than death in Corsica in a foreign land:

"I am Diego Batland di Belfodi, Colonel of the Royal Family of the Kingdom of Sardinia, you may have heard of my family, the Belfodi family is a noble family with a long heritage, my ancestors were enshrined in the Holy Roman Empire three hundred years ago, and my brother is the contemporary Count of Belfodi..."

Colonel Butland desperately spoke of the nobility of his lineage, only to suggest that Lawrence should be courteous as a capitulating nobleman and entitled to pay a ransom or other price in exchange for his personal freedom.

But Lauren was apparently not interested in listening to a defeated general tell about his noble family lineage, and he opened his mouth with only one sentence that instantly choked Colonel Butland:

"You ordered the arson in Ajaccio?"

Colonel Butland was stunned and did not react for a long time, while the Sardinian officers behind him nodded desperately.

"Really..."

A moment of murderous intent flashed in Lawrence's eyes, and after a soft sigh, he regained his composure, he looked away from Colonel Butland, stopped looking at him, and waved a few central gendarmes:

"Send someone to escort him back to Ajaccio immediately, and the citizens of Ajaccio will hold a public trial on their own, and the Prime Minister's Office and the Supreme Court do not need to interfere in the trial process, and the final trial result will be carried out by the Central Military Police."

"Slow... Wait!"

No sooner had Lawrence finished speaking than Colonel Butland cried out in horror.

A public trial of oneself held by the citizens of Ajaccio? Colonel Butland didn't have to think about what the citizens who had just suffered the trauma of war would vote for.

Ling Chi, car splitting, burning at the stake... Torture flashed through his mind, and no one knew what the citizens would use to end his life, exactly

At the thought of the name of the torture, Colonel Butland was already weak, and could only let out a meaningless wail from his mouth.

Ignoring Colonel Butland's gaffes and struggles, the central gendarmes erected the commander of the Sardinian forces in the eyes of the crowd and dragged him like a dead animal in the direction of the outside of the town, and one could even see a water stain left by the rubbing of Colonel Butland's crotch on the ground.

As the walking dead Colonel Butlan was dragged out of view, the townspeople of Propriano erupted in a tsunami of cheers, and there was no joy better than hearing that an invader was about to die on Corsican soil.

Lawrence turned his gaze to the captured Sardinian soldiers, and combined with Constantine's description, he gave another order after a moment of silence:

"Gather all the prisoners of war in the square in the center of the town, give the townspeople half a day to identify the soldiers who committed the atrocities last night, and execute those who have been identified by more than five without interrogation; Half a day later, all the unidentified soldiers were sent to work in the silver mines of Ajaccio, and those who behaved well were granted Corsican citizenship and became freemen after three years."

Those Sardinian soldiers who had caused trouble and done evil last night suddenly turned bloodless when they heard this, and their eyes were almost black and they were about to fall to the ground, while those Sardinian soldiers who kept to themselves were not only worried, but also had an indescribable complex emotion in their hearts.

They had long heard of the treatment of the freedmen of Corsican, who could not only obtain a piece of land directly by virtue of citizenship and rural household registration, but also be exempt from the extortions of the landlords, and only pay a small part of the harvest to the Ministry of Finance.

Especially after arriving in Propriano, the Sardinian soldiers were surprised to find that the town was far richer than they had imagined.

They had the impression that it was only in the Po Plain, the richest part of the Kingdom of Sardinia, that a small town of more than 20,000 people could at once supply an army of more than 6,000 men with food and drink, and this could only be done in a good year.

For these Sardinian commoners, who were already from the bottom, it seemed much better to become a Corsican freeman in three years than to stay in the army and be dictated by the old officers.

At the thought of this, many of the Sardinian soldiers had a look of anticipation and hope on their faces.

Lawrence also sighed slightly when he saw this, the reason why he did not exterminate these Sardinian prisoners of war was because he knew in his heart that war was still essentially a game for the superiors, and these soldiers were essentially just pawns acting on orders.

Years ago, or even months, these so-called soldiers might have been no different from the Corsican townspeople present.

Most of them were subsistence tenants or serfs in the Kingdom of Sardinia, who were forced to join the army by the conscripts and were coerced by the conscripts, trained for several weeks, and were thus granted the status of soldiers.

Lawrence was not willing to slaughter the Sardinian soldiers who merely acted on orders without committing additional atrocities.

Of course, the reason why Lawrence wanted to integrate these Sardinian prisoners of war into Corsican society was in essence for a more long-term goal - to integrate Sardinia, establish a common national identity between Corsican and Sardinia, and even establish a unified national identity for all of Italy in the future.

Since the goal was the unification of all of Italy, both the Sardinians and the Savoys were considered by Lawrence to be nationals to be integrated into the Italian term, and there was no need for him to massacre innocent prisoners of war.

...

After dealing with Propriano's many affairs, Major Serurier, who accompanied him, was obviously relieved:

"The landing force that attacked Ajaccio has been completely wiped out, so the Kingdom of Sardinia will inevitably be broken, and I am afraid that they will no longer be able to plot against Corsica in this whole war, which means that Corsica will hardly be a threat in the war, and we can sit back and wait until this war is over."

In the opinion of Major Serurier, the Kingdom of Sardinia had now lost its covetousness

The Grand Duchy of Tuscany and the Duchy of Milan, which were in the same camp, were not at all capable of crossing the sea to attack Corsica, let alone the Sicilian rebels, whose attention was always on the Apennine Peninsula.

As for Great Britain, who are secretly manipulating, after their failure to support the Kingdom of Sardinia in attacking Corsica, it is estimated that there will be no more radical behavior in the short term.

The strategically secure island of Corsica could have received French aid for the war while symbolically sending a small force for the Kingdom of Naples, and now it would have to wait for the war to end, and Corsica would benefit greatly from the war aid received from France alone.

Chief of Staff Berthier also agreed with this conservative but effective plan, proposing to Lawrence:

"We can then rest in Propriano and then return to Ajaccio to garrison and garrison the important ports, and so on until the end of the war... We have just annihilated nearly 10,000 Sardinian troops at Ajaccio and Propriano, a feat that will leave Spain and the Kingdom of Naples speechless for our subsequent defenses."

Everyone in the army staff also nodded in agreement, and this is indeed a strategic direction with very low risk.

But as the focus of everyone, Lawrence was slow to take a stand.

He looked at the map on his desk in deep thought, and suddenly took a quill and drew an arrow from Propriano to Bonifacian, and then circled the whole of Sardinia:

"No, let's rest here and wait to join up with the main Wehrmacht, and then we will not return to Ajaccio, but continue south to Bonifac, where we..."

"Crossing the Channel and attacking Sardinia?"

Surprised to pick up Lawrence's plan, Berthier took a breath of cold air and analyzed it carefully:

"Indeed, the landing force we have just annihilated is mainly from Sardinia and not from Savoy itself, which means that Sardinia must be very empty at the moment, and if nothing else, we should easily occupy it... But..."

Major Serurier, who was on the side, nodded knowingly and added:

"The occupation of Sardinia may not be a good option strategically, Your Excellency Bonaparte, the Kingdom of Sardinia does not depend on that island, and even if Sardinia is occupied, it will not be a great loss for them, but it will force our already limited forces to defend Sardinia, which will be very dangerous if the enemy reorganizes its attack on Corsica."

"But now is the best time to take Sardinia."

The tip of Lawrence's pen clicked heavily on the Bonifacian Strait between Corsica and Sardinia:

"The Kingdom of Sardinia is deterred by the French Mediterranean Fleet, and does not dare to fight for sea supremacy in the Mediterranean for a short time, we can take the opportunity to cross the strait unharmed, once the Sardinian navy reacts, it will be difficult for the Corsican navy to control the initiative on the sea; As you should all know, Corsica and Sardinia were born from the same origin, and it is imperative to integrate Sardinia into the Kingdom of Corsica."

"But even so—" Berthier did not shy away from objecting to Lawrence, and continued to analyze it carefully:

"Even if we occupy Sardinia, it is unlikely that the king of Sardinia willingly ceded that island to the Kingdom of Corsica at the center of the peace treaty; Despite the major defeat they have just suffered, the Kingdom of Sardinia still has an absolute advantage in military power compared to Corsica."

With 20,000 standing troops at his disposal, as well as the military aid of Great Britain, King Carlo Emanuele III of Sardinia could not cede Sardinia to Corsica just because of the occupation of Sardinia.

And in the face of Bertier's concern, Lawrence once again responded to him with the movement of his hands:

I saw that the tip of Lawrence's pen went directly from Santa Teresa in the north of Sardinia to Cagliari, the capital of the south, and then paused there for a moment, and then with a pick, a beautiful arc instantly appeared on the map - it was an arc from Cagliari directly to Turin, the capital of the Kingdom of Sardinia.

Under the shocked gaze of everyone, Lawrence muttered

Road:

"Carlo Emanuele III certainly wouldn't willingly cede Sardinia, but when the Corsican flag flies over the royal palace in Turin, I think the king will make a wise choice."

Free to read.