Restart:Untalented Man



After spending time in the darkness of the passage, they subconsciously look up to the sky the moment they're out. The moon, which was very bright, illuminated the surroundings with a soft glow. The terrain was lighted by its gentle radiance, casting a shadow on the rocks and trees. The twinkling stars could be seen for as far as the eye could see. The night was quiet and serene with an occasional hoot of an owl.

One of his servants let out a sigh of relief, "I thought we were never going to make it out alive."

Metternich put a hand on his shoulder, "We are not out of danger yet. We need to keep moving and stay vigilant."

His wife spoke up, "But, where do we go from here?"

Metternich took a brief pause before replying. "We will make for the border and seek refuge in a neighbouring country, Naharog. The nearest town should be Szazki."

"We're going by foot?" asked his wife.

"Yes, we have no choice but to go on foot." Metternich nodded, "I mean we can't find a carriage out here, right? I'll give away our identities."

His wife gave him a worried look, "But we don't have any supplies, and the journey would be long."

"We'll find food and water along the way." Metternich attempted to sound more assured than he actually felt by saying, "We need to be resourceful and adapt to our surroundings."

Clank—

As a group was about to begin their journey, the door they came out from was suddenly kicked open. Metternich and his servants turned around. Before they could react, a torch was thrown directly at one of his servants, burning his face in an instant.

"Arghh!!" The servant screamed in agony and fell backwards as he attempted to douse the flames with his hands.

As the servant's screams echoed, the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Others quickly grabbed water and cloth to smother the flames. But the damage had already been done. The man's face was badly burned and blistered. He is in obvious agony. 

The events that had just occurred terrified Metternich and the others.

"Who did this?!" Metternich demanded an answer. His voice was shaking with fear.

However, there was no response. Only the sound of footsteps was heard and it seem to grow louder and closer. Everyone held their breath in anticipation, wondering who might be lurking in the shadows. As far as they were told, nobody should know about this passage. 

Shortly thereafter, a figure emerged from the darkness of the secret passage. He was dressed in all black, with his hood off.

His face was fully revealed and was looking at them with aloofness. He looks very unassuming, almost as if he was an ordinary passerby on the street. He had a mop of pitch-black hair and his eyes were as dark as coal that blended well in darkness. Age-wise, he appeared to be in his mid or late twenties, with a lean build and unremarkable features.

Despite that, Metternich had a hard time believing a man with such a nondescript appearance like him emitting a strong sense of danger, sending shivers down his spine.

"Who are you?" He asked with a firm voice. He didn't forget to draw his sword and position himself in front of his family. The male servants quickly followed his action.

Ignoring Metternich's question, the man muttered. "I guess either I'm getting old or my skill dulled. The torch didn't even hit the target." He sighs at his failure to burn Metternich's face.

The past few years weren't good for him. Blackout operations were reduced as the budget was channelled toward the war. It naturally limits what he can do. "And what's worse is even my protégé becomes a branch like me. Thankfully, you decided to run away. I can now kill you and hopefully, it will earn me a promotion."

The man drew his sword with a swift motion, revealing a sharp and well-maintained blade that glimmered under the moonlight. 

Metternich gritted his teeth. His voice now laced with anger, "Hey! Don't you hear my question? Identify yourself."

The man seemed annoyed but answered nonetheless. "Jack," he said shortly, before advancing towards Metternich and his seven male servants with his sword at the ready.

The was filled with tension as the sword fight began.

"Stay away from us!" Metternich ordered his wife and daughter to retreat to a safe distance. 

Soon, the sound of clashing metal echoed through the night as Metternich engaged Jack in a fierce fight while the rest of his men tried to encircle Jack.

Contrary to his statement earlier, Jack however moved with remarkable speed and agility. 

"Ha!" The president of Vofors Republica shouted as he lunged at Jack, aiming for his heart. Jack sidestepped the attack with ease. He countered by striking Metternich's shoulder with deadly precision.

"Tsk," Jack clicked his tongue. The cut he made wasn't too deep.

Metternich winced in pain. One of his men tried to flank Jack, but the move was seen from the corner of Jack's eyes. 

Clang—

The attack was easily deflected.

"Is that all you got?" Jack taunted before commenting on the attack. "Your attack kinda obvious, to be honest. Rather than guarding the president, you should involve more in field operations."

Feeling insulted, the man's face was twisted in anger.

Receiving no response, Jack dashed to the target closest to him.

He was like a whirlwind, moving from one opponent to the next with ease. His movements were fluid and precise, disrupting the encirclement attempt from time to time.

Each swing of his sword was calculated to take down his enemies as efficiently as possible.

On the other hand, Metternich's servants fought with all their might. But, they were no match for Jack's skill and experience. With each passing minute, their number was reduced by one. 

Jack's sword sliced through flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter, leaving only a trail of blood on the ground. He let out a hysterical laugh, "This is it! This is what I miss."

The intense fight lasted for several minutes before leaving only Metternich standing.

"Die!!" Jack yelled and run towards the only man left. Metternich not going to be defeated so easily. He parried the attack and send Jack stumbling back.

Swords clashed and sparks flew as both sides exchanged blows. Each wants to kill another. As time goes on, the parry from Jack becomes faster. Metternich realizes he was dragged into the flow by the man in front of him.

Although he tried to keep up, his energy quickly depleted. One blunt mistake caused a swift strike from Jack knocking the sword out of his hand.

The president was now completely defenceless as Jack advanced towards him, a menacing smile on his face. He was like a predator stalking his prey.

Without hesitation, he let his sword kiss Metternich's neck. The president's head was disconnected from his body. The body collapsed to the ground with a loud thud and blood spraying everywhere. 

Finally, the fight came to an end with Jack standing alone, victorious.

At his feet, Metternich and his seven servants lay dead. Their lifeless bodies still twitch with the last vestiges of life. The stench of blood and sweat filled the air.

Jack let out a triumphant laugh. His sword still dripping with blood. It had been so long since he last had an intense battle.

Still, there is something left for him to do. The witnesses were in the vicinity.

The women gasped and scream in terror. They huddle together with fear etched on their faces.

Metternich's wife begged, her voice quivering, "Please, spare us. We didn't do anything wrong. We won't discuss what we witnessed with anyone."

Jack's eyes were cold and calculating. He merely scoffs at her pleading and kick her away. "I'm afraid I can't take that risk. You have seen too much."

As Jack approached them with his sword drawn, the women's cries got louder. "Please, at least my daughter."

"No, can't do. The last time someone's daughter escapes, she gives birth to a son who ends up becoming a king. I would be stupid to let it happen. Don't worry, I will make it quick and painless."

He held his sword high in the air and dispatched them one by one with rapid and exact blows. Their dead bodies dropped to the ground in succession.

Their blood flows like a river, turning the ground into a deep crimson coloured. 

The silence of the night returned. Jack stood amidst all of that, enjoying the refreshing breeze of the night. His black attire is now even darker from the bloodstains.

He let out a deep breath, feeling a sense of satisfaction in his success. Then he muttered to himself, "Mission accomplished."

The man disappeared into the opened passage door, leaving behind the scattered dead bodies on the ground. Who knows when the bodies would be found?