Restart:Untalented Man

Chapter 241 It's Me, Your Former Lord!

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"What was that?" Bain who watched the fire priest unleashed a new technique curiously asked. He turned to the source of the flames himself, Gliibious, seeking an explanation.

"That was the Ignition Wave," he responded. "It is one of the exclusive spells wielded by Fire Priests. It doesn't possess overwhelming destructive force. When the heat wave engulfs individuals, it has the potential to render them temporarily incapacitated, giving us an advantage in battle. The ignition wave is particularly useful for managing encounters with groups of enemies or providing area control in combat."

"I see..." Bain absorbs the information shared by Gliibious.

"Look, young man," said Gliibious with his finger pointing forward, "The enemy begins to retreat."

Following Gliibious's gesture, Bain directed his gaze toward the enemy lines. True to his words, signs of retreat became evident among the Barlian forces. Soldiers began to fall back. Their movements display a sense of disarray and urgency.

Taking in the sight of the retreating enemy, a glimmer of hope ignited within Bain and the soldiers. He sensed an opportunity to exploit this moment and press their advantage. 

As much as he want to chase them, he didn't act by instinct alone. Turning to the fire priest, Bain sought confirmation. "Priest Gliibious, how long do you estimate the Ignition Wave spell will last?"

Gliibious responded, "This technique won't last long, young man as consume a lot of mana to maintain it. Unfortunately, I don't have a large pool of mana. As we are speaking right now, I can feel my mana reserve being drained rapidly. The flames will eventually subside, and we must be prepared for the enemy's next wave of attack."

"Is that so?" Taking the Fire Priest's words to heart, Bain reconsidered his idea of moving too far from the city.

He realized that pursuing the retreating enemy without a well-planned strategy could expose their forces to potential encirclement or counterattacks. Despite the help of magic, they were still outnumbered by Barlia's forces.

"If that's the case," Bain stated, "We should reorganize our position here and wait. Considering their intent to take this city, I am certain they will return."

....

"Let's go!" Marquess Hector exclaimed. He stood at the forefront of a formidable army, comprising twenty-five thousand soldiers, as they prepared to march northward towards the coveted city of Lonsbak.

The air crackled with anticipation as the soldiers donned their armour, tightened their grips on their weapons, and adjusted their marching formations. Banners bearing the emblem of the imperial house fluttered in the wind, displaying their allegiance and instilling a sense of unity among the ranks.

With a commanding gesture, Marquess Hector led the way, his horse galloping forward, setting the pace for the entire battalion.

As they ventured further north towards Lonsbak, a sight of majestic beauty greeted them on their left side—a vast lake, its tranquil waters stretching as far as the eye could see. The shimmering surface reflected the golden hues of the setting sun, casting an ethereal glow upon the surrounding landscape.

The lake was called Lake Solara, the biggest lake among all the three lakes that existed in this region. Nestled between the cities of Nyirdi, Hajdu, and Lonsbak, this lake held a prominent place in the hearts of the people as a source of water and food. 

Hector dismounted his steed and approached the water's edge, kneeling down to cup his hands and take a sip. A cool liquid touched his lips before flowing down his throat.

"Aaahh...This is refreshing. You can't find this back in Inverloch. They have no sizable lake." said the marquess.

He rose to his feet and motioned for his army to resume their journey. Their destination was now within close reach.

....

After travelling for another hour or so, they finally see the city wall. Without further ado, Marquess Hector splits his forces into multiple groups as he pre-planned.

The highly skilled and stealthy soldiers he had sent ahead days ago position themselves strategically near the gates of Lonsbak. Their mission is to gain control of the gate and ensure it remains open for the main force to storm into the city.

Within the city, as the imperial banners came into their sight, the infiltrators swiftly overpower the gate guards and eliminated any resistance.

With the gate under their control, they secure it and keep it open, allowing the main force to surge forward into the heart of Lonsbak.

Like a broken dam, Marquess Hector's army floods through the open gate. The element of surprise, combined with the sheer force of their numbers, catches the enemy off guard.

Chaos escalated as Marquess Hector's forces quickly gain ground, seizing key positions and cutting off escape routes. It was an easy feat as he knows this city like the back of his hand. 

The streets of Lonsbak become a battleground as the defenders attempt to regroup and mount a counteroffensive. However, they find themselves outnumbered and disoriented, struggling to coordinate an effective response against the relentless assault.

Marquess Hector, on the other hand, doesn't want to prolong this meaningless fight any longer. His troops have got a grip on the city which makes their struggles even more useless.

His mission was not to destroy, but rather to bring the city under imperial rule, as commanded by the emperor himself. In order to ensure a smooth transition of power, any meaningless death need to be avoided.

As such, he raised his voice above the clamour of battle and shouted. "Drop your weapons! It is me, your former lord!"

The defenders, caught off guard by his unexpected declaration, hesitated. Confusion and disbelief flickered across their faces as the enemy is not some stranger but their once-familiar lord.

Hector continued to persuade, "Let us stop spilling more blood. I have taken control of the city. There's nothing more you can do. Think about your family first."

A moment of tense silence hung in the air as they weighed his words. They turn around, assessing the vicinity. Realizing they have been surrounded, the defenders slowly drop their weapons to the ground and give up on fighting.

Hector heave a sigh of relief. Thankfully, his words were not in vain.

[A/N: Map]