Restart:Untalented Man

Port of Eikadir, Eikadir Region.

A province that once belonged to Cerdeauxia is now in the hand of Barlia during the invasion hundreds or so years ago. In that long period of time, the Barlian successfully chipped away the Cerdeauxian identity and integrated its inhabitants as a part of the Principality. Now, if someone would ask them, without a doubt, they’ll call themselves a Barlian.

Eikadir is considered to be the lifeblood of the Principality. It serves as a gateway to the southland and food production region. Without it, a huge chunk of Barlia’s population would starve to death.

To better protect the province from slipping out of their hand, the crown has stationed a lot of troops. It’s not an exaggeration. Despite having only two major cities, the amount of active soldiers there is enough to prevent the neighbouring countries from having a good sleep. 𝘳𝑎.𝗇t

As time passed, the population of Barlia continued to grow. Eikadir alone is no longer sufficient to sustain the livelihood of Barlians. Sooner or later, food would become a scarcity to the common people and a luxury to the rich.

Surely, this circumstance will disrupt the internal stability of the country. Trading wasn’t an option in the first place. Who would be in their right mind to put life in the hands of other nations? Only expansion can solve both population and food problems.

And two years ago, the golden opportunity as they called began to appear right in front of their eyes. Fate was on their side when Bagyarosia was shattered into pieces.

This time, no major power can threaten the ambition they harbour.

Once again, the gears began to move.

Today, the port of Eikadir was peaceful as always. Everyone is doing their daily activity, hawking merchandise, loading goods, bargaining, laughing, arguing and so on.

On the sea, ships were spotted to come and go, carrying grains, fruits and tools to and from the south. It’s still a bustling port nonetheless, just not on the scale of Bideford Port and Harlington Port.

While Riz is arguing with the duke in the mansion, the port saw numerous ships with blue-coloured sails and crown-shaped embroidery belonging to the House of Barlia crossing the Levianic Sea from the north, bringing thousands of horses to the south.

In this continent, the sails of the ships need to be painted with images, symbols or words as some sort of identification. Leaving them blank can be considered as an unaffiliated or rouge ship. And rogue ships are free to be attacked and raided by anyone. Though nobody knows where this rule originated from, it is believed to have existed and been practised for centuries.

However, like any other law, people tend to find a way to circumvent the law for their own benefits. Falsifying the sails identification is a common practice used by pirates, outlaws and even merchants.

“That’s a lot of horses, Sir Knight! What are you gonna do with that much?” asked the dockworkers in the port.

“Aishh, what else aside from giving it to farmers as a farming animal? Who is going to pull the plough and seed drill? You? Just do your job and unload them quickly. Don’t doubt the sincerity of His Highness the Prince.” The knight respond to the question half-heartedly. He’s clad in his intricate steel armour. One couldn’t afford such extravagant armour unless they were born into a noble family.

To be honest, he himself is in the dark. His superior doesn’t say anything to him. All he had to do was lead a group of knights to pick up the horses and packages sent by the central government. They’re to distribute them to the cities and villages across the province. Looking at how his superior acted, he simply followed the order. Though he heard hearsay of the war, he doesn’t delve deeper.

Albeit inquisitive about the details, the knight avoids snooping around. People do say curiosity killed the cat. He was young but not stupid or na?ve to stick his head in where it didn’t belong to.

The dockworkers lift up a heavy crate. All the shaking produces the sound of clanging metal. He promptly asked, “Sir, where should I put this?”

“Divide it just like the horses.” With a dubious expression, the knight explicitly gives them a warning. “Do not peek at the content if you value your life and your family! I know you people very well. I heard a lot of bad stuff about you guys!”

Beats of sweat came out of their forehead, fearing the consequences that may befall them. The dockworkers who never intended to heed the knight’s words change their minds in an instant. “D-Don’t worry sir knight. We aren’t that curious. Hehehe.”

Hundreds of wooden crates were unloaded from the ships. Due to its sheer amount, transferring crates one by one is time-consuming and energy-consuming.

The port itself is not as humongous as Bideford and doesn’t entirely belong to the Barlia’s Royal either. There are still merchants waiting to dock the ship. Any delay would cost money and knowing their impatience, these merchants are probably going to cross this port out of their list.

Hence, the dockworkers decided to follow the example shown by nature. They form a line akin to ants, passing the crate to the person beside them. As predicted, the efficiency increases several times. The ship was emptied in no time.

“This crate is the last one, right?” The knight asked, slightly perturbed by the heat of the sunlight. He hopes for nothing but to get done with this job.

“Yes, sir.” The dockworker who he interacted with from the start affirmed his statement. “This is the last—”

Before the dockworker could finish his sentence, his feet somehow stumbled upon something on the ground, causing his partner to lose balance as well.

The wooden crate falls to the ground, followed by a loud thud. Everyone nearby turned to the source of the sound to see tons of black powder spill out.

Silent engulfed them as the dockworkers struggled to identify the material.

The knight sighs of exhaustion upon facing an unpredictable situation. He subconsciously massages his temples. Being a noble-born, he naturally has access to more information than commoners.

A glance was all he needed to guess the name of the spilled powder.

“S-Sir Knight, I…” His eyes shimmered with fear. He called the knight in a panic, fearing the punishment that would befall him.

“Tsk, this has become troublesome…” He ordered the dockworkers to quickly sweep the powder back into the crate before calling them for a small talk.

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