I Reincarnated as a Prince Who Revolutionized the Kingdom

April 27th, 1693 – Golfe-Juan, Elysea

By dawn, the port town of Golfe-Juan had transformed into a hub of royalist activity. Soldiers patrolled the streets, craftsmen reinforced strategic locations, and couriers rode out to nearby towns, spreading word of Prince Bruno's arrival. The fleet anchored in the harbor remained a dominant presence, its ships fully stocked and ready to provide support for the growing resistance effort.

Prince Bruno stood inside the command post in the town hall, a large map of the region spread out before him. General Berthold, Captain Vallier, and several other officers gathered around the table as scouts reported new information.

"The surrounding villages are largely sympathetic to the crown," a scout reported. "Many of the local leaders have expressed their willingness to supply food and manpower. They've had minimal contact with Republican forces but have faced harsh taxation through intermediaries."

Bruno traced his finger along the map, noting key roads and trade routes. "Good. These roads are essential for maintaining our supply lines. If we can control them, it will hinder the Republic's ability to mobilize forces in this region."

General Berthold nodded in agreement. "Securing the nearby towns will give us a solid foothold. But we must also consider the possibility of Republican retaliation. Once they discover you've landed, they won't hesitate to send a response force."

Bruno's expression hardened. "They will come, but we'll be ready. What's the status of our fortifications?"

"We've begun reinforcing the northern approaches to the town," Berthold replied. "The cliffs to the east provide natural protection, and we've stationed scouts along the coastal paths. If the Republic launches an attack, they'll be funneled through limited entry points."

Bruno turned to Captain Vallier. "And our artillery?"

"The howitzers and field guns have been positioned on elevated ground overlooking the harbor," Vallier said. "Crews are conducting drills to ensure they can fire accurately and quickly. We've also mounted smaller cannons near the town center in case of a close-quarters assault."

Bruno gave a nod of approval. "Good. Maintain those drills. The Republic won't expect us to be this well-prepared. If they try to overwhelm us with numbers, we'll make them pay dearly."

By mid-morning, delegations from nearby villages arrived at the town hall. Farmers, blacksmiths, merchants, and former soldiers filled the chamber, each bringing news and pledges of support. One by one, they approached Bruno to offer their services.

A burly blacksmith named Renaud stepped forward, his face weathered from years of hard labor. "Your Highness, we've got smithies in three villages ready to forge weapons and tools for your army. Just give us the materials, and we'll keep your soldiers armed."

"Your work is vital to our cause, Renaud," Bruno said with a firm handshake. "Coordinate with Master Engineer Durand. He'll ensure you have the resources you need."

Next came an elderly merchant named Pierre, who represented several trade networks along the southern coast. "We can smuggle supplies through the inland routes," he offered. "The Republic's patrols rarely venture far from their main garrisons. With your fleet protecting the port, we can maintain a steady flow of goods."

"Excellent," Bruno replied. "But be cautious. The Republic will tighten their grip on trade once they hear of our activities. Use decoys and false manifests if necessary. We cannot afford to lose vital supplies."

As more allies pledged their support, the atmosphere in the room shifted from uncertainty to confidence. For many, this was the first glimmer of hope they had seen in years.

Later that afternoon, Bruno addressed the townspeople once more from the square. Word had spread quickly, and residents from nearby villages had gathered to hear the prince speak. Hundreds of people filled the plaza, their eyes focused on the platform where Bruno stood.

"People of Golfe-Juan and the surrounding lands," Bruno began, his voice steady and authoritative, "you have suffered under the weight of oppression and fear for too long. The Republic, in their quest for power, has abandoned the principles of justice and unity. They seek to erase our history and crush our spirit."

The crowd listened intently, many nodding in agreement.

"But today, we take the first step toward reclaiming our future. This land belongs to us—the people of Elysea—not to those who would rule through lies and violence. Together, we will drive the Republic from our shores and restore the dignity that they have stolen."

A cheer rose from the crowd, growing louder with each passing moment.

"Long live the King!" someone shouted, and the chant quickly spread through the plaza.

"Long live King Bruno! Long live Elysea!"

Bruno raised his hand, signaling for silence. "I do not seek the throne for personal glory. I fight because it is my duty to protect this nation and its people. I fight for those who cannot defend themselves. And I ask you now—will you stand with me?"

The crowd roared in affirmation, their voices echoing off the stone buildings surrounding the square.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Bruno returned to the command post. Officers and advisors reviewed their plans for the next phase of the campaign.

"We'll begin moving our forces inland within the week," General Berthold said. "Our scouts have identified key strongholds under Republic control. If we take those, we can secure the entire southern region."

Captain Vallier added, "We should also continue spreading our message to the larger towns. Once word of your return reaches them, more will likely join our cause."

Bruno leaned over the map, considering their options. "Agreed. We'll move carefully but decisively. The Republic is already stretched thin fighting the coalition to the north. If we strike swiftly, we can cripple their ability to reinforce these territories."

He straightened, his expression resolute. "This is our time. We will not falter. Prepare the troops and the fleet for deployment. By the end of this campaign, the people of Elysea will know that their rightful prince has returned."

The officers saluted, each man and woman ready to carry out their duties. Outside, the sounds of preparation continued as soldiers drilled and supplies were loaded onto wagons.

Prince Bruno stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the town square. The people below looked up at him with hope and determination. He knew the road ahead would be long and perilous, but for the first time in years, the dream of a free and united Elysea felt within reach.