Restart:Untalented Man



On the deck, the admiral of Ryntum's first fleet watches the sea fortress unleash a relentless barrage of cannon fire upon the enemy's fleet. The thunderous roar of exploding shells filled the air, mingling with the crashing waves and the howling wind, creating a cacophony of chaos and destruction.

A smile of satisfaction etched on his face as the enemy ships succumbed to the relentless onslaught.

"Admiral, your strategy of communicating with other ships using cannon fire has worked wonders. Our coordinated attacks have rendered their attempts of escaping." 

The admiral nodded, a sense of pride swelling within him.

As time passed, more and more Ryntum ships closed in, encircling the enemy vessels like a tightening noose.

The Blande fleet now found itself trapped, surrounded by an overwhelming display of naval power. Ship after ship met its fate, consumed by flames or sinking into the depths of the stormy sea.

"Their defeat is imminent." The admiral declared, "Maintain the pressure and show no mercy. Let them know who's the ruler of this sea."

The battle raged on. The admiral watched the enemy vessels succumb to the onslaught one by one.

Before long, Blande's fleet had been utterly decimated. The casualties on their side were immense. All ships had been sent to a watery grave.

From a total of five thousand sailors or so, the vast majority had met a grim fate in the relentless ocean. Those who survived found themselves adrift and at the mercy of the victorious Ryntum fleet. Among them was Admiral Wagner himself.

Ryntum has emerged victorious. Swift to capitalize on their victory, Ryntum had taken prisoners of war, capturing the surviving sailors who had managed to cling to life. 

Shortly thereafter, not wanting to waste any time, the admiral issued his next command.

His voice resonated with authority. "Immediately change course to Betbury. We are taking that town into our fold!"

The sailors on board swiftly carried out his orders, adjusting their sails and directing their ships towards their new objective.

....

At the sea near the entrance of the gulf,

The ominous clouds blanketed the sky, casting a gloomy shadow over the scene. The rain had been falling steadily since the early hours of the morning, enveloping the ships in a misty veil. Raindrops relentlessly pelted the deck, creating a rhythmic symphony.

In this sombre and tranquil atmosphere, the sailors sought shelter inside the ships, leaving only a few outside. Ryntum's second fleet remained anchored at the entrance of the gulf, anticipating further instruction.

Admiral Jareth makes a decision to forgo conducting security checks today due to the fear of his subordinates falling ill which will pose a potential hindrance to the upcoming mission.

A sailor's voice suddenly broke through the silent atmosphere. "Sir, there are about seven ships approaching us," the sailor called out, pointing towards a distant glimmer of light in the rain-laden darkness.

"Seven ships, you say?" Admiral Jareth's eyes narrowed. Grabbing the spyglass tied on his waist, his eyes sharply focused on the incoming vessel.

The rain obscured his view, making it difficult to discern any details. However, he manages to catch sight of the crimson reg flag on the ship. 

A sigh of relief escaped his lips, momentarily easing the tension that had gripped his heart.

"Don't worry, it's Ryntum's ships." He assures the tense sailors.

Admiral Jareth welcomed the messenger on board his flagship. The messenger, clad in a soaked uniform, delivered a sealed package of papers to the admiral, a message and information from the capital that held the instructions and directives for their mission.

Taking the package inside, Admiral Jareth broke the seal and unravelled the contents.

He first took the letter, scanning the words written in it and absorbing the content of the message. The order from the capital was clear and direct.

[...Proceed immediately to Erle Island and establish a foothold. Secure the island and neutralize any resistance.]

"Huu..." He let out a long exhale as soon as he finishes reading the letter. He suddenly felt the weight of the task ahead settle on his shoulders.

| This order can only mean the kingdom of Ryntum would no longer remain passive in this war, but instead take the initiative to launch an attack. They even send additional seven ships to bolster the second fleet and increase the success rate.

As the officers assembled in the briefing room, Admiral Jareth stood before them.

Without letting a second be wasted, he began the briefing, emphasising the strategic importance of the island located in the middle of the Levianic Sea.

Then, the admiral presented the intelligence sent by the capital, detailing the island's topography, the locations of settlement, and the enemy's estimated strength. The meeting lasted for several hours for them to lay the foundation for a comprehensive plan.

Once the sailors make inspections on the ships, the fleet embarked on their journey to the north. The seven galleons, nine carracks, and fourteen caravels sailed through the vast expanse of the open sea, their sails billowing in the wind.

The journey stretched ahead, spanning nearly two days of sailing time where they arrive at dusk on 13th April 303 Paign Era. As the last rays of sunlight danced on the water, Erle Island gradually came into view. 

The fleet drew closer to Erle Island and the vibrant landscape unfolded before their eyes.

From the deck of their ships, they could see a patchwork of verdant fields, stretching as far as the eye could see. The island's fertile soil supported a thriving agricultural industry, with numerous farms dotting the landscape. Aside from that, their economic activities also consist of raising livestock and fishing. 

"Alright, let's split now as we plan." said the admiral.

The fleet gracefully divided into two groups, each assigned a distinct mission. Four galleons altered their course to the west, aiming to navigate around the island and head northward.

Meanwhile, the remaining ships stayed on their original course, planning to make a landing in the southern part of the island.

As the fading light of day embraced the horizon, the ships of the Ryntum second fleet sailed steadily through the gentle waves towards their designated targets. 

The islanders, returning from a day of fishing notice the sudden appearance of the warships on their tranquil waters. They paused their activities and gathered along the shoreline, their faces reflecting a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

As they scanned the ships, confusion is etched upon their faces.

There are no flags, symbols or emblems that can be used to determine the affiliation of the incoming fleet. Ryntum had purposefully removed all their crimson red flags.

Whispers of speculation spread among the islanders, as they attempted to make sense of the situation. Most of them believed the ships were their own Blande's navy while a small portion of the islanders believed it to be a foreign navy.

Despite their uncertainty, a sense of caution prevailed. 

The ships eventually came to a gentle halt and anchors were dropped. Small boats were deployed onto the sea. Each of them carries armed soldiers, ready to make their presence known on the island.

Manned by Ryntum soldiers, the small boats swiftly approached the shore. To the islanders who were watched, the intentions of unknown soldiers were clear.  Panic spread like wildfire among the onlookers as they realized that the fleet before them belonged to the enemy.

In a frenzy of fear and desperation, the islanders scattered. Their instincts urged them to flee and seek refuge inland. And so, they fled with all their might while screaming in terror, hoping to warn others of the impending danger.

The once peaceful coastal village turned into a scene of chaos and distress as families scrambled to find shelter. 

The Ryntum, on the other hand, wasted no time at all. They swiftly disembarked from the boats and charged forward, advancing towards the first coastal fishing village.

Their superior numbers and military training enabled them to capture the coastal settlement relatively easily. The fishing village fell under the control of the Ryntum forces.

The crimson red flag flutters majestically in the air.

Now, the foothold has firmly been established but they are far from done.

With the first coastal fishing village under their control, the Ryntum forces pressed onward. They moved inland, going to village after village in a short amount of time.

The islanders, taken by surprise at Ryntum's swift advance, could only watch in helplessness as their once-peaceful home fell into the hands of the invading forces.

The guards tasked with protecting the safety of the villages found themselves powerless against the invaders. They were left with no choice but to surrender or meet a tragic fate filled with bullet holes.

The crimson red flag of the invaders fluttered ominously over each captured village, reminding them of their new rulers.

As night descended upon Erle Island, a sense of triumph and jubilation filled the air.

The Ryntum forces celebrated their successful capture of significant portions of land in the south.

The troops do not forget to construct temporary outposts within their newly acquired lands to fortify their positions and consolidate their control.

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