Restart:Untalented Man



The next morning dawned with a soft, golden glow that spread across the northeastern horizon. As the first rays of sunlight pierced through the scattered clouds, they cast a warm, ethereal light upon the landscape. The air carried a gentle breeze, whispering promises of a new day filled with possibilities.

In the northeast, the remnants of the previous day's battle were evident. The ground bore the imprints of countless footsteps, the scars of conflict etched into the soil. 

The camp of the Ryntum soldiers slowly stirred to life. Tents flapped lightly in the breeze as soldiers emerged from their temporary shelters, stretching their weary limbs and preparing for the day ahead. The murmurs of conversations and the soft shuffling of boots intermingle with the weighing of the horses. 

Wilmot and his officers convened around a central area, having a discussion among themselves.

"The defeat of the Blande west unit is a significant victory for us. It weakens their overall forces and shifts the balance in our favour. However, I must remind all of you to not stay on high alert."

Suddenly, a scout burst into the room, breathless.

"What is the meaning of this interruption?" one of the officers snapped. "We are in the midst of an important discussion."

The scout, undeterred by the officer's anger, replied, "Apologies, sir, but I bring urgent news. The Blande camp, it's empty. There's no sign of their presence."

The room fell silent as the officers exchanged puzzled glances. Wilmot furrow his brows,  "Empty? Are you certain, scout? Could it be a trap or a decoy?" he questioned.

"Yes, sir," the scout affirmed. "I watch them from the dawn but there's no movement from within the camp. I brave myself and scoured the camp thoroughly. But it appears as though the Blande soldiers have abandoned their positions. They left a lot of equipment and provisions behind."

Wilmot's expression hardened from this unexpected development. It's hard to believe that they run away. "Send the cavalry out in all directions, conduct a thorough inspection of the surrounding areas and report it back." he declared. "Don't forget to inform the Tehterswest in the city about this."

The officers sprang into action, delivering the news as quickly as they can. 

....

As the hours passed and the sun reached its zenith, the cavalry returned. They spotted the Blande forces heading in the direction of Harlington.

Wilmot closes his eyes for a moment. He never thought that the Blande's commander would opt to run away. Nevertheless, victory was within their grasp.

"We will not let them escape," he declared. "Gather the Ryntum and Tetherswest soldiers. We shall give chase and bring an end to the threat at this front once and for all."

The combined forces of Ryntum and Tetherswest quickly mobilized, fueled by a shared determination to end the exhausting war.

With banners flying high and the sound of marching feet reverberating through the air, they embarked on a relentless pursuit towards Harlington.

The chase was on. As they advanced, the sun continued its steady ascent, casting a radiant glow upon the sprawling landscape. 

Wilmot, riding at the forefront of the army, spotted the Blande soldiers in the distance. "Prepare for battle!" he commanded.

The army was split into three. One unit would go to the left and another one would go to the right. Their primary objective is to limit Blande's movement and prevent them from scattering while he leads the rest of the soldiers to engage with the enemy head-on. 

Tetherswest soldiers who were equipped with swords and spears led the charge. They pinned the Blande forces into a fixed position. Meanwhile, Ryntum soldiers who were mostly at the centre delivered deadly shots. The result was devastating for the Blande. 

Kurt who was protected at the centre shouted at the top of his lung, "Run! Rush toward Harlington! Leave the injured behind and save yourself first."

As Kurt's commanding voice pierced through the chaos of the battlefield, a wave of panic surged through the remaining Blande soldiers.

Without hesitation, they heeded his desperate plea and broke ranks, abandoning their wounded comrades and scrambling towards the town of Harlington.

The scene became a frenzy of frantic footsteps and heavy breathing as the retreating Blande soldiers raced towards safety. The sound of their hurried footsteps echoed in the air, accompanied by the occasional cry or shout of urgency.

The Ryntum soldiers seized the opportunity to press their advantage.

As the Blande soldiers rushed toward Harlington, their eyes widened in disbelief as they encountered another contingent of Ryntum soldiers.

"How? Why they came from that direction?" Kurt's voice was filled with a mix of surprise and confusion. Ryntum soldiers has come from the direction he least expected. 

Wilmot who see the red banner fluttering in the wind was surprised as well. Regardless of his reaction or how Ryntum soldiers spawn there, he knows this is a chance to completely encircled the Blande forces from all four sides.

However, the Ryntum force coming from Harlington is too small to receive the impact of the panicked and disarray Blande. They will probably get trampled facing thousands of enemies alone.

As such, he ordered the soldiers to unleash a volley of gunfire in order to thin the enemy number. The crackling sound of rifle fire filled the air, creating a deafening symphony of chaos and desperation. Blande soldiers fell to the ground, their bodies convulsing under the impact of the bullets.

The units from the left and the right intensified their assault on Blande forces, attempting to slow them down.

From the direction of Harlington, a unit of Ryntum soldiers swiftly moved into position, their weapons poised to deliver another devastating blow to the already beleaguered Blande forces.

Kurt, witnessing the overwhelming might of the enemy and the havoc they wreaked upon his soldiers, lost all hope. Every time he blinked his eyes, tens of lifeless bodies fall to the ground. 

Bang-

A bullet flew into his shoulder, jolting his body. He staggers and falters. A searing pain erupts in his shoulder, radiating through his entire being like a lightning bolt.

He instinctively put his hand on the source of agony. The warmth of his own blood seeped through his trembling fingers.

Bang-

Another bullet had found its mark, this time with fatal consequences. The world around him blurred and faded away. In his final moments, a thought rushed through his mind about the danger this army posed to the northern nations.

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