Restart:Untalented Man



The warships smoothly sailed away from the waters of Hagen. Their white sails billowed in the wind. Jareth's subordinate approached him with a question, "Admiral, now that we have secured the supplies, where shall we set our course next?"

Jareth stood on the deck, scanning the horizon, his eyes deep in thought. After a moment, he turned to his subordinate and replied, "We will make our way back to Erle, deliver the supplies and wait for further instructions if there are any."

With the command given, the warships altered their course. Their bows sliced through the open sea towards their destination. The night turned into day, the fleet sailed onward without stopping at any location. 

As they approached the familiar shores of Erle, the destroyed port came into view. Crumbled structures and charred remnants lined the shoreline, serving as grim reminders of the recent devastation. Splintered dock planks jutted out from the water, barely recognizable amid the debris. 

The fleet sailed into the ruined port, where a striking sight of a steamboat anchored at the dock caught their attention. Its gleaming metal structure and towering smokestacks stood in stark contrast to the surrounding vessels.

The crew members exchanged curious glances while Admiral Jareth recognized it as a vessel dispatched from the capital.

Anchor was dropped and the crews began unloading the supplies. Due to the large amount of them, the soldiers who were stationed at Erle came to help. 

On the other hand, Admiral Jareth descended from his ship and surveyed the scene. His gaze swept across the port before turning to the soldier standing nearby. "Is there anything of importance I should take notice of?" he inquired. 

The soldier nodded, signifying that there was something that required his attention. "A letter from the capital has arrived along with the rations and administrative staff," he informed.

"That's fast," said Jareth, his eyes widened in surprise. "Go get the letter for me."

The soldier nodded before swiftly making his way to the temporary office that the military used to govern the island. He reached the table where the stack of documents had been placed, sifting through the papers until he found the letter bearing the seal of the capital. Gripping it tightly, he hastened back to where Admiral Jareth stood. 

Handing over the letter, the admiral begins to read the content with inquisitiveness. A flicker of intrigue danced in his eyes, momentarily revealing the thoughts that churned beneath his stoic facade.

"Nice, the capital approved." Jareth mused. Aside from the latest development in war, the capital gave him permission to act as he see fit. If possible, the higher-up in the capital hoped he could capture Harlington.

"Harlington...huh?" Jareth turned to his trusted officers. "Prepare for a change of plans," he commanded, his voice steady and resolute. "Our next objective is now Harlington. We will secure the city swiftly and decisively."

They were taken aback, "H-Harlington, sir?"

"Yes, Harlington," Jareth affirmed, his gaze piercing through the uncertainty in his officers' eyes. "The capital hope we can retake the city from Blande."

The officers exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and concern. One of them spoke up, voicing the question that lingered in their minds. "But sir, Harlington is heavily fortified and defended. It won't be an easy conquest. We will drag into attrition war."

Jareth's lips curled into a confident smile, "The previous attempts were unsuccessful because Bagyarosia attacked from land while Harlington continuously get supplies from Hagen. However, the circumstance has changed. We'll go by sea and blockade them. As simple as that."

In the days that followed, a blockade plan was meticulously devised by Jareth and his officers.

"To effectively blockade Harlington, we will need a substantial naval presence," the admiral said. "We will deploy five galleons, three carracks and six caravels to establish the blockade and cut off their maritime supply routes."

He continued, "As for guarding Erle, we will leave two galleons, one carrack and four caravels behind to defend our base. The remaining five carracks and four caravels will join the patrol of the water, fending off any attempt of intervention."

The officers nodded, agreeing with Admiral Jareth's allocation of ships. 

"Do you have any questions?" asked Jareth.

"No, sir!!" said the officers simultaneously. They understood the role played by each fleet in the forthcoming operation.

"Since you guys have no questions, go and inspect the ships and prepare the supplies."

Jareth's officers promptly dispersed, each taking on their assigned tasks. The soldiers began their inspection of the galleons and caravels, ensuring they were well-equipped for the upcoming blockade. Others made their way to the supply stores, overseeing the loading of provisions onto the ships.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow over the port, the preparations neared completion. The ships stood ready for some actions. 

"We are ready to sail, Admiral," one of the officers reported. 

Jareth nodded, "It is time to blockade Harlington."

Under the darkening sky, the fleet sailed into the vast expanse of the open sea. With the stars as their guide, they pressed on through the night, their destination set for the shores of Harlington. Throughout the journey, the sailors ensured the smooth operation of the ships and maintained a steady course towards their objective.

....

At noon of the next day, the busy port came into their sight. It was a typical bustling port. The ships seem to coming in and out of it as Jareth had seen in Bideford Port before. 

The Ryntum's navy quickly split according to their predetermined task. Slowly, the main fleet from a crescent moon formation just a bit far from the shore. They only open a narrow passage, just wide enough for the departing ships to exit the port. The rest were simply trapped in the city.

Merchant ships were baffled to see the sudden appearance of what they assumed were warships. With curiosity filling their mind, they gaze up to see the affiliation of the fleet. 

The crimson red flag of Ryntum proudly fluttered in the wind. Jareth has no intention to hide their identity. It's useless to do so.

Sensing the war might take place, everyone rushes inside the city wall to seek refuge and save themselves. Everybody was prepared for the eventual attack by Ryntum.

However, it never comes. The Ryntum simply anchored their ship in the same position. 

Noon gradually passed and evening arrived before being replaced by night. Day turns into night and turns to day again. The port was deserted, void of any presence of human and commercial activity.

There is not a single time Blande's soldiers see the ship make any movement. Nevertheless, inhabitants of Harlington felt their necks were slowly strangled. On the fourth day, they couldn't hold any longer. The city waves a white flag, admitting its defeat.