Restart:Untalented Man

The march to Ergel was short.

When the first faint outline of the city walls appeared through the thin veil of morning mist, Sarika Klover noticed countless people on the opposite side.

The Blande’s army was waiting.

She slowed her horse to a halt. From the front, the entire Blande’s human wall formation was visible, including arrays of banners.

Sarika let out a low whistle. "Oh wow! Look at that! They are well prepared."

There was no trace of worry in her voice, only a mild amusement, as if she were watching a group of children trying to act brave.

Clearly, she didn’t take Blande as a formidable opponent worthy of her attention.

Her officers exchanged glances, unsure whether her tone was meant to inspire or mock.

One of them adjusted his fur-lined cloak and got closer. "Commander, should we... adjust our formation?"

Sarika tilted her head slightly, studying the scene through her spyglass.

Rows of infantry stood behind the human wall. Archers are occupying high ground, and cannons that were clearly modified copies of Ryntum’s designs are lined in clusters among the infantry.

It was a formidable sight by Blande’s standards.

"No need for now," she replied calmly. "Let’s fire out shots first and see if we can break their defence."

"Understood."

Behind her, the Ryntum’s soldiers began to spread across the snow in perfect order. Artillery units are already setting up their emplacements, supply wagons rolling steadily into position.

The banners of Ryntum flapped boldly in the wind.

Sarika watched them all with satisfaction.

Each movement, each shout of command, was executed with precision.

"This is how an army should look," she murmured, "Not a mob of peasants with spears and borrowed courage."

She turned to her adjutant. "Tell the gunners once ready, bombard the enemy. I want to see how long that ’wall’ can stand."

The adjutant saluted and rode off to relay her command.

The plains outside Ergel erupted with the thunderous growl of cannon fire.

A dull boom rolled through the air, shaking the ground underfoot as the first of Ryntum’s guns unleashed its fury.

Then came another one, and another one, until the echoes merged into a relentless roar.

"Keep firing!" the gun captain bellowed. The chaos of the battlefield nearly drowned out his voice.

Flames burst from the muzzles, shells screamed through the air, and a heartbeat later, the ground near Blande’s forward line exploded in plumes of dirt and snow.

Sarika watched the barrage unfold. Through her spyglass, she could see Blande’s defenders scrambling to respond.

The chaos of their inexperience was obvious.

"Adjust the range, fifty paces forward. The next volley aimed at their artillery lines."

Her adjutant quickly relayed the command.

Moments later, the cannons roared again. This time, the shells landed directly among the Blande artillery positions.

A deafening explosion tore through the enemy flank.

One of their cannons went up in a fiery blast, sending a rain of metal fragments and burning debris across the field.

"Bullseye," Sarika murmured. A faint smile appeared on her lips.

On the opposite side, Blande was in uproar.

"Return fire! Quickly!" Van shouts.

His artillerymen scrambled to load their guns. The counter-fire came minutes later. However, it lacked the precision and rhythm of Ryntum’s assault.

Some shells fell short, exploding harmlessly in no-man’s land. Still, a few struck true.

One of Ryntum’s forward emplacements was hit. The blast knocked men to the ground and scattered a gun crew.

"They’re learning," she said. "Too bad they’ll run out of ammunition before they learn how to aim."

"Commander, their left flank is showing signs of collapse!"

"Good. Signal the second battery to focus fire there. Let’s carve a hole in their line."

Seconds later, a new wave of cannon fire thundered across the plains. The left flank of Blande’s army disappeared behind a curtain of smoke and flame.

"Keep the pressure steady," she commanded. "We’ll advance when the smoke clears."

....

Inside the battered command tent on the outskirts of Ergel, the ground trembled with each blast. Dust and snow drifted from the ceiling.

Van Vernau stood over a rough map spread across a long wooden table. Ink jars rattled with every impact.

"Damn it! They’ve zeroed in on our left flank!" one of his officers shouted, stumbling into the tent. "Our men are retreating without orders!"

"Get them back in position!" Van snapped. His voice was as sharp as a whip. "If that flank breaks, the whole defence will crumble. Tell them to hold the line at all costs! Reinforce them with the second battalion!"

The officer hesitated. "But sir, the second battalion’s already down to half strength—"

"Then use the private knights! I don’t care how! Just hold that damned line!"

The man saluted shakily and ran out into the storm of noise.

Van exhaled heavily, staring down at the map again. His mind worked furiously, chasing options that seemed to vanish faster than he could think of them.

Every move he could make came with unbearable risk.

Every resource he had was already stretched to the breaking point.

Another explosion went off nearby. The tent shuddered. A goblet toppled from the table. Its contents spilling across the map, staining Ryntum’s advance lines with deep, ominous red.

"My lord, their artillery fire is too concentrated!" cried another aide as he burst in. "We can’t even get close enough to return fire effectively! Our men are being shredded before the cannons are in range!"

Van clenched his teeth. "Then move the guns into the city! Use the buildings as cover! Line them along the main streets. Make them fire from behind the walls if they have to!"

"Inside the city, sir? But—"

"Do it! Unless you want Ryntum marching through our streets by evening!"

The man ran out without another word.

For a brief moment, Van was left alone. He could feel the hopelessness creeping in.

Even if he managed to hold today, what then? How long before Ryntum crushed them completely?

"Is this the end?"