Restart:Untalented Man

As the butler departed to fulfil his task, the mayor leaned back in his chair, a mix of determination and concern etched upon his face.

Samuel turned his head toward the door as it creaked open slightly, revealing his wife, Aurora, peering in with a mix of curiosity and concern. .

Once her husband notice her, she stepped fully into the room, her eyes searching his face for answers.”What is happening, Samuel? I couldn’t find you in our bedroom.”

“Aurora, my dear,” he said, rising from his seat and crossing the room to greet her. “Apologies for the disturbance. There is indeed an important matter at hand—a potential threat to our city.”

Taking her hand in his, Samuel led her to a comfortable seating area near the study’s window. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before explaining the situation in a measured tone.

“The merchants came to inform me about a sighting of a sizable army spotted in the city of Hajdu, led by Hector,” he began, concern evident in his voice. “Their intentions remain unknown, but it poses a potential threat to us here in Baroks.”

Aurora’s eyes widened with worry as she grasped the gravity of the situation. “Hector? You mean the former count, Hector Hajdu?” she asked, her voice tinged with apprehension.

Samuel nodded solemnly. “Yes, it seems he was sent here to expand the empire’s influence.” He glances at his wife to see her expression, “Don’t worry too much, Aurora. I have already sent a letter to the king, informing him about this. We can expect to receive the reply soon.”

Aurora nodded, believing in the capability of her husband and the king to handle this threat.

As the night wore on, Samuel and Aurora chose not to return to their bedroom. The couple sat together in the study, gazing out of the window as the moon dipped below the horizon and the first hints of dawn painted the sky in gentle hues of pink and gold.

….

As the sun painted the sky with shades of orange and gold, the rhythmic beat of a distant drum echoed through the camp of the Ryntum army.

The soldiers, weary from their journey and seeking rest, were abruptly awakened from their slumber. Tents rustled as men emerged, stretching and rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

Bain Lawrence, who lead this fifteen thousand soldiers stood tall, surveying the scene as the army began to stir with a newfound energy.

“Wake up, soldiers!” Bain called out, his voice carrying authority and urgency. “We have a long march ahead of us. Mezorin awaits, and there’s no time to waste.”

The soldiers, still groggy from their interrupted sleep, quickly roused themselves and gathered in small groups to prepare breakfast.

The air was filled with the scent of sizzling meat and freshly baked bread as fires crackled and cooking utensils clanged. Soldiers huddled around fire pits, stirring pots of hearty stew and flipping pancakes over hot griddles. .𝒎

Around the camp, soldiers exchanged stories as they enjoy their breakfast together. Occasionally, laughter permeated through the air, lifting the atmosphere in the camp.

“Stop wasting time talking! Finish your breakfast quickly!” Bain’s voice thundered, cutting through the morning haze.

The soldiers, startled by their commander’s booming words, snapped into action. They rush to finish their breakfast as the time for rest was over, and the long march to Mezorin awaited.

They doused the fires, cleaned their utensils, and packed their supplies. The camp transformed from a lively gathering to a disciplined formation. Rows of soldiers stood in readiness. Their weapons gleamed in the morning light.

Bain surveyed his troops. Satisfied with their readiness, he positioned himself at the forefront. His voice, calm yet resolute, rang out, “Onward, my comrades! Mezorin awaits us!”

With the sun now fully risen, casting its warm glow, the Ryntum army set forth on the final leg of their journey to Mezorin.

The rhythmic sound of marching boots resonated through the air as the Ryntum army forged ahead. The road stretched before them, winding through the vast plains. Each step brought them closer to their destination, Mezorin, a city of strategic importance in the ongoing war.

Morning transitioned into noon before transitioning again into the evening. The soldiers pressed on towards the capital of the Kingdom of Naharog.

And finally, after what felt like an eternity, the outline of Mezorin came into view. On the horizon, the gleaming spires and towering walls of Mezorin came into view. The sight breathed new life into the weary hearts of the soldiers.

As they approached the city gates, Nelson Naharog, the king himself stood at the entry, awaiting for their arrival.

Bain Lawrence who once spent some time in the kingdom was particularly familiar to the monarch. As their eyes met, a sense of recognition and respect filled the air.

“Chief Bain, it is truly a pleasure to see you once again,” Nelson Naharog greeted with genuine warmth in his voice.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. We will be in your care for quite some time.” Chief Bain responded, reciprocating the warmth in the king’s greeting.

“There’s no need to feel reserved, Chief Bain. You are here to help us defend the city. I would be considered ungrateful if I didn’t treat you nicely.”

With a gesture of his hand, King Nelson Naharog beckoned for the soldiers to follow him. The weary yet determined troops fell into formation, their disciplined march echoing through the streets of Mezorin.

As they walked, the king speak of the strategic location of Mezorin the soldiers can use when the war erupt. Bain listened intently, absorbing every important information.

Finally, they arrived at a spacious compound not far from the heart of the city.

“I hope you are satisfied by this place, Chief Bain. It’s closer to the city centre and not far from my palace as well,” said Nelson. “Rest well, for tomorrow we shall discuss our plans to face the enemy.”

Chief Bain nodded gratefully, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

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