Restart:Untalented Man

Haugdak, Bagyarosia.

It’s the second-biggest city in the Caushilbo region separated by forty kilometres from the capital, Weymewesto. As a gateway to the south, the city was encircled by towering walls of thick stones and imposing gates, serving as a formidable defence against external threats.

The outer parts of Haugdak’s defensive wall were covered in ancient runes and sigils, hinting at the remnant past magic practised by its inhabitant. The runes and sigils themselves are intricate and elaborate, etched into the stone walls with great care and precision.

Up until now, they remain a mystery as there is not yet a single person who managed to decipher them. Despite the numerous attempts made by scholars, it remains an enigma.

Upon entering the city, the envoy from Bideford was struck by the city’s hustle and bustle of the streets. Its vibrant markets are a melting pot of merchants from different cultures. The air is filled with aromas of the plethora of foods and fresh produce as well as the sounds of bargaining and haggling.

The city was a maze of narrow alleys and streets, lined with tightly packed multi-story buildings made from a combination of stone, wood and bricks. The architecture was a mix of different styles, ranging from a multitude of eras.

As the envoy moves through the streets, his eyes don’t miss the small details of vibrant flags, ornate carvings, and complex murals illustrating scenes from regional myths and tales decorating the buildings. It was something that Bideford lack of.

“Did these people even know about the war?” The envoy questions the behaviour of the citizen. The war doesn’t seem to be affected them despite the enemy supposedly marching south, toward them. It was a matter of time before Barlians came knocking.

The envoy stopped at the small stall selling exotic spices and dried fruit. He couldn’t contain his question and decided to ask, “Excuse me, do you know about the war?”

He gave the envoy a look as if he thought the envoy was an idiot. “War? Of course, we know about the war. But we also know that Barlia spares the populous. The ones who should be pissing in their pants right now should be people in the citadel, not us.”

The vendor’s candour shocked the envoy, but he was unable to deny the veracity of what he said. The envoy continues his journey on the busy street.

Haugdak is far from what he initially thought it would be, a city with a gloomy atmosphere and dangerous criminals walking freely around. In fact, the title of ‘Rebellions’ Den’ misfits the city.

It is most likely propaganda created by the government in the capital to discourage people from coming here. And the effort seems to be failing because the leaders of the rebellion counter-moved by reducing the taxes.

Without further ado, the envoy makes his way to the centre.

At the heart of Haugdak stands a citadel, a colossal fortification that houses the city’s rulers. Basil and Wilmot stormed in and neutralize the official rulers before taking over the entire city and controlling the administration.

“Woah~” The envoy let out a loud gasp, taken aback by the grand structure made of marble with intricate carvings. The citadel houses the city’s government and stands as a representation of power and control. Currently, it was occupied by the rebellion group.

After sleepless nights, he had arrived at his destination.

“Stop!” The guards at the entrance halt his movement, blocking his path with their spears. “State your identity.” One of the guards commanded while suspiciously looking at the envoy.

The envoy maintained his calm composure in the face of the guard’s questioning. As the guards remained vigilant, his hand reach a small pouch attached to his belt and pulled out a sealed letter adorned with royal emblem.

With an air of confidence exuded and a letter in his hand, he stated in a clear voice, “I’m an envoy from Ryntum. I bear a message from the king to your leaders.”

The guards exchange wary glances before looking at the so-called envoy from top to bottom.

In contrast to usual envoys, who were noted for wearing elaborate and ceremonial clothing, the envoy’s attire was devoid of any ornate embellishment, making him appear unassuming and inconspicuous.

He was dressed in a simple brown tunic that hung to his knees and a brown cloak that was draped over his shoulders. The cloak’s rough texture suggested that it was designed for durability rather than luxury. He wearing a leather belt fastened around his waist with a small pouch tied to it. His boots were well-worn with mud splattered on them.

“You don’t look like one sir.” said one of the guards. The guards didn’t shoo him away but let out his thought.

The envoy replied to the expected question, “I get that a lot. Anyway, can I come in?”

“We need to check and validate this emblem first. Please wait for a moment.” replied one of the guards while his partner bring the letter inside to carefully examined the emblem.

“No problem. I can wait.” said the envoy. While waiting, he struck up a conversation with the guard to fill his bored. “So…How’s life?”

“Not so good.” The guard gives a bland answer.

“Is that so? Me too.” The envoy laughs dryly. “How long you’ve been working here?”

“….” Instead of answering the question, the guard stared blankly at him. .𝒎

After a few moments of awkward silence, the guard returned with the letter in hand. “It seems the emblem is authentic and matched with the record. You’re indeed an envoy, Your Excellency.”

Their attitude changed from scepticism to respect. They moved aside to make way for the envoy to pass through the entrance. “We sincerely apologise for the inconvenience, Your Excellency.”

The heavy iron gate creaked loudly as the guards open them for him.

The envoy gently placed the letter back into his pouch after giving a nod of gratitude.

As he entered the citadel, the atmosphere here is the opposite of the outside.

His skin pricked with dread as a shivering sensation slithered up his spine. The chilly, stone walls were covered in strange shadows from the flickering light, adding to the atmosphere of mystery and secret.

From time to time, his ears capture the sound of armour and weapons clattering. Not to mention, the smells of burning torches that penetrate his nose.

The stronghold of the rebellion was filled with tension, so much so that he found himself suffocating. People inside gave the envoy wary glances while keeping their hands on the hilts of their weapons as if they were prepared to draw them at any time.

Despite all of that, the envoy radiates an air of bravery as he firmly believes his identity would protect him against any aggression.

A guide was waiting for him. “Your Excellency, let me lead you to Sir Basil and Sil Wilmot.”

“I appreciate your assistance, good sir.” 𝑖𝘦.𝒸𝘰𝑚

He was led through a maze of narrow corridors before he was told to ascend a winding staircase.

Finally, he was ushered into a dimly lightened room where the leaders of the rebellion awaited him. Both of them huddled around a huge oak table studying maps and documents.

“Sirs, I’ve brought the envoy.” said the guide, maintaining his stoic expression.

Wilmot, a battle-hardened veteran turns around. He stood tall and imposing, with battle-worn armour glimmering dimly. His eyes looked at the envoy who was dressed in his plain traveling clothes. With a furrowed brow, he asked unconvincingly. “Are you really an envoy?”

“Yes, sir.” The envoy took out the letter and showed it to Wilmot Aymer. “I brought a letter from King Rizieri for both of you.”

“Opened the letter, Wilmot. Let see what’s the king said.” Ordered Basil. As a former butler, he exuded a charismatic aura and polished demeanour that Wilmot lacked.

The former head knight snatched the letter from the envoy’s hand. He started to read the king’s words out loud so Basil could hear them as well.

[To Wilmot Aymer and Basil Belvadair,

By my decree as a King of Ryntum and your superior, I command you to temporarily retreat to Napuna immediately. As the flames of war are spreading in Caushilbo, I do not want you to be needlessly caught by it.

I can assure you whatever plan you’re cooking in that citadel won’t work. Weymewesto is on the highest level of alert. Both of you and your people would only get end up getting caught. Therefore, cease all your operations and retreat.

I have ordered my men to make you safe passage so you and your followers can retreat without any difficulties. I expect your full cooperation in this matter.

Sincerely,

King Rizieri Ryntum.]

After finishing reading the letter, Wilmot looks at Basil for his opinion. Honestly, he didn’t like the way Riz ordered them but they left with no choice.

For a brief moment, Basil remain silent, deep in his thought. He then spoke in a gruff voice, “Very well. We’ll heed your king’s order.”

The tension in the room eased slightly as the leaders of the rebellion made a decision that aligned with the king’s wishes.

The envoy couldn’t help but nod in acknowledgement before letting out a long exhale.

Seemingly, he doesn’t have to use his diplomatic skill to convince them.

𝘪𝘳.𝒸𝑜𝑚