Restart:Untalented Man



As the groups of Inverloch soldiers passed through the scrutinizing gazes of the Inver guards, they finally converged on the other side of the city.

"Urgh... I've never been regarded with such disdain, not even by the king himself after failing to defend Mezorin," he muttered to himself.

With the tension and hostility surrounding their passage, Bain realized that this path was riddled with animosity and risk. It was not a viable option for the future.

He plans to take a longer route when returning to Mezorin later.

Seeking confirmation, Bain's voice cut through the air, direct and focused. "Has everyone made it through safely?" he asked, his concern, especially for his fellow Ryntum soldiers was evident.

Every single one of them, meeting Bain's gaze, checked on their comrades, ensuring everyone had successfully crossed the threshold. Nods and murmurs of reassurance were exchanged, displaying their unity and resilience.

"Good, let's proceed," Bain declared with a firm resolve. "You're nearing your home now."

A wave of relief and renewed determination swept through the soldiers as they cheered and readied themselves to march forward. The hardships they had endured during their journey were beginning to fade, replaced by a sense of anticipation and the comforting thought of returning to their homeland.

However, as they set off on their path, a sudden darkness engulfed the sky. All of them look up at the sky simultaneously. What they see were thousands of arrows, like a deadly rain, descending upon them with merciless precision.

Panic gripped the soldiers as the air filled with the chilling sound of steel slicing through the air.

"Protect yourself!" Bain's urgent command reverberated through the chaos, but it was drowned out by the cacophony of screams.

The soldiers were caught off guard and desperately sought cover. Their hearts pounding with fear and adrenaline.

Arrows found their targets, piercing vulnerable flesh, and cries of agony pierced the air. The lack of armour and weapons left them painfully exposed, amplifying the danger that surrounded them and adding to the casualty numbers.

Amidst the chaos and carnage, Bain's mind raced, searching for answers. His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the unfolding tragedy.

Who was responsible for this ambush?

Through the haze of arrow rains, Bain's gaze locked with the Inver's commander.

The commander stood at a distance, his eyes fixed upon the besieged Inverloch soldiers.

As their desperate struggle for survival unfolded, the Inver commander's expression revealed a disturbing mix of coldness and smug satisfaction. A subtle smirk played at the corners of the commander's lips, betraying a twisted sense of pleasure in witnessing the carnage he had set in motion.

His eyes hardened with malice, gleamed with a malevolent glint as he watched the Inverloch soldiers fight for their lives. There was no remorse, no hint of sympathy or concern for the lives being lost before him. Instead, his gaze held a disdainful superiority.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Bain shouted, his voice laced with righteous fury. "You dare to attack us? Are you trying to wage a war against Ryntum?"

The Inver's commander slowly turned his gaze towards Bain, his expression devoid of remorse or compassion. It was completely different from the friendly expression he showed earlier. 

A chilling smile curled upon his lips as he responded, his voice dripping with sinister intent.

"If you're dead," he sneered, "Nobody will know what actually happened. We can craft our own narrative and manipulate the truth."

As Bain listened to the commander's response, a surge of realization washed over him. At that moment, he knew he had to prioritize his own escape. The responsibility of escorting the Inverloch had become secondary to his own survival.

The safety of his comrades and himself took precedence above all else.

With a sense of urgency, Bain quickly gathered as many of Ryntum's soldiers as he could, their eyes reflecting a shared understanding of the dire situation they faced.

"Abandon all your duties," Bain commanded, his voice resolute. "We need to do our best to get out of here before they mobilize their cavalry unit."

The soldiers nodded their expressions a mix of determination and apprehension. While Inverloch soldiers were being slaughtered, the Ryntum swiftly picked up the corpses to use them as a macabre shield against the ongoing onslaught.

Following Bain's lead, they moved swiftly, their steps guided by a desperate desire for survival.

"Where should we go, sir?" As they run, one soldier asked. His voice was laced with uncertainty.

Bain's gaze hardened, his mind racing through the limited options available to them.

"South," he replied firmly. "The city in the south still belonged to the Inverloch, so the Invers wouldn't chase us there, at least that's my assumption. We can find respite there, catch our breath before we begin crossing the border into Inver again."

"Crossing the border?!" another soldier exclaimed, concern etched on his face. "Wouldn't that be too dangerous, sir? In this scenario, we should assume all the Invers are hostile against us."

Bain met their apprehensive gazes, his voice steady with conviction. "Do we have any alternative route to return home?" he asked, his words hanging heavy in the air. The soldiers remained silent, acknowledging the truth of their predicament.

"We don't know if this is the selfish act of their commander alone or a plan orchestrated by their king," Bain continued, urgency seeping into his voice. "But one thing is certain: we must move swiftly before they trap us in the south and hunt us down. We can't afford to hesitate."

Nods of agreement rippled through the group as they absorbed Bain's words.

Neigh—

The sound of a horse neighing pokes their eardrums, an ominous sign that sent shivers down their spines. Bain's eyes widened as he turned around. 

"Shit!" he exclaimed, urgency lacing his voice. "Their cavalry is here! Move, move! Put every ounce of energy into your legs!"

Fear fueled their adrenaline as the soldiers pushed their tired bodies to the limit. It was not the first they were put in this situation. The first one was when they are escaping Mezorin.

Through laboured breaths, Bain's voice carried a resolve. "Just wait, Inver," he muttered under his breath. "I hope you have a good reason for this because I am going to survive and report this incident to the king."