Cavalry Regiment of God's Guidance

Chanel shifted the Charleville Musket on his back and hoisted several bags of luggage onto his shoulder—he didn't want his mount to carry anything so it could rest.

"Jacques!" A familiar young Nobility ran past him, turning his head to call out, "Victor wants us to assemble immediately, right there. Hurry!"

Chanel reached out to pull the man. "What happened?"

"I heard the Algerians attacked the border." The latter forcefully shook him off. "Victor said the army is all downstream of the Medjerda River, and currently only the Tunisia are defending the Bizerte. That's our chance!"

Chanel hurriedly straightened his Military Uniform and ran towards the distant assembly point.

At the head of the crooked, rickety Nobility procession, a square-faced young Nobility stood atop a Carriage, brandishing his sword and shouting, "General Sherer's main force is likely too late to intercept the attacking Algerians! This is our golden opportunity!"

He waved vigorously. "My dearest classmates, the time has come to show your superb military skills. If we can reach Tamirai before dark tomorrow, we will have made a great contribution and won unparalleled glory!"

Chanel immediately joined in the shouting. This Victor was a "celebrity" in their school's Law School; it was he who rallied everyone to fight in Tunisia. Not only from their own University of Rennes, but also hundreds of young Nobility along the way had joined his ranks. Although Victor only held the rank of Lieutenant, which his father had bought for him on the eve of the military reforms, he had still become the leader of his group.

"Heh, a bunch of braggarts." Accompanied by footsteps, a group of young men in worn-out Military Uniform, some even just shirts, passed by behind them, scoffing.

"They haven't even properly organized their company, and they're already thinking about some 'supreme glory,' haha."

"Nobility are all like that; their ability to talk is a thousand times greater than their ability to fight."

"Let them continue entertaining themselves. By the time they set off, we'll have already crushed the Algerians."

Victor immediately looked at the young, balding officer on horseback at the front of the column, his eyes filled with melancholy, and shouted angrily, "Lieutenant Ney, keep your men in check and don't interfere with our pre-battle preparations!"

The latter glanced at him coldly, then waved to the ranks behind him and said, "Silence! Speed up the march."

"Yes!"

The Noncommissioned Officers in the ranks immediately responded loudly and began to discipline the soldiers. At the same time, their only four old War Drum were beaten even louder, and the entire column fell silent instantly.

Victor watched the civilian caravan disappear into the distance and grew increasingly anxious.

These civilians, numbering eight or nine hundred, had traveled to Tunisia on the same naval transport ship as them. Their speed was astounding! It seems that civilian officer named Michel Ney is quite capable.

He quickly interrupted his speech and ordered the young Nobility to line up and prepare to go to Tamirai.

That was the westernmost town of Bizerte. If we could hold that town, we could stop the Algiers' army from penetrating deeper into Bizerte.

Spurred on by the earlier ridicule, the Nobility "volunteer army" moved swiftly, forming a marching column in just over an hour. To the rhythmic sounds of War Drum and Organ, they hurried westward.

When the officers on the naval transport ship saw that both groups had left without permission, they hurriedly chased after them and asked them to report to General Sherer first, but no one paid any attention to them.

When Chanel's Servant Matthew, carrying two sacks of Oats, rushed back to the dock, panting, his master was nowhere to be seen...

Before nightfall, Victor finally spotted the Camp of the commoners and immediately urged his horse forward with delight. Almost everyone in the Nobility caravan was on horseback, and some of their Servant even had horses. They also hired local Tunisia along the way to carry their luggage and pull their supply wagons, so their marching speed was much faster than that of the commoners.

Ney, who was patrolling the Camp, also saw him and unexpectedly greeted him, saying, "Lieutenant Moreau, to be honest, your speed surprised me."

"It's nothing," Victor Moreau nodded to him. "We are the ' Cavalry Regiment of God's Guidance,' how could we possibly be unable to catch up with even Infantry?"

Ney frowned slightly. "God's... guidance?"

"Oh, although it hasn't received official recognition from the General Staff yet, this name will surely be remembered by France!"

Victor Moreau wanted to say that these Nobility had joined the army at the call of the "Child of Divine Grace," which was why they had chosen such a cool name—the guidance of the Child of Divine Grace, which, in a sense, was equivalent to the God's Guidance.

Ney shook his head at the silly-sounding name, thinking to himself: It seems there's no point in expecting the Nobility lords behind him to be of any help.

The next morning, as Moreau was brushing his teeth in the first rays of sunlight, he heard the faint sound of drums in the distance. He immediately looked at his attendant and asked, "Have the commoners broken camp?"

"It seems so, Lieutenant."

Moreau immediately grabbed a War Drum and began to beat it vigorously, shouting anxiously, "All troops assemble! Prepare to march!"

London.

Marquess Wellesley felt somewhat reassured as he read the secret report of the Morocco and Algiers Allied Forces intervention.

The day before yesterday, Parliament passed the Prime Minister's proposal to exchange some interests in the Caribbean Sea, along with recognition of France's claims in Tunisia, for France's non-intervention in the India situation.

All of this is predicated on Congress encountering sufficiently significant trouble in North Africa.

Currently, 40,000 troops in North Africa are simultaneously attacking Tunisia, which is the leverage he needs.

He was just waiting for the France Cabinet to begin discussing sending more troops to North Africa before heading to Paris to negotiate with them.

Algiers borders northern Tunisia.

A large army of Blacks, dressed in yellow shirts, wide breeches, and carrying Brown Bess Flintlock Gun, marched along the mountain pass, stretching for nearly two miles.

Wearing a trapezoidal red leather hat, Said looked out at the distant plains and asked the Blacks officer beside him, "Agord, how far is it to Bizerte?"

"Less than 5 miles, Pasha."

Said nodded smugly. The cavalry that returned at noon spotted the main French Army force downstream of the Medjerda River, a three-day journey from the north of Bizerte.

By the time the France realized that the Algiers Guard Corps were just bait and wanted to return north to rescue them, they had already occupied the Port of Bizerte.

Whether to continue eastward to attack Tunisia City or turn south to Kairouan, he would have a great deal of initiative. Even if an unfavorable situation were to arise, he could threaten to burn down the Port of Bizerte to blackmail the French Army, making him virtually invincible.

He only needed to stay in Tunisia for a month or two to return to Morocco, and the United Kingdom would pay him a huge reward of 2 million Riyal.