Restart Again: Volume 2 Adam Scott (most difficult books to read txt) 📖

Primes willing.” He drew one of the daggers from his bandolier and flourished it with a well-practiced spin. “You’ll soon see for yourself why I’m called Eltann Quickblade.”

Oh, he even gave himself a nickname. I failed to fully hide my amusement, and a smirk crept across my face. “Think about what you’re doing, Jeremy. You’re threatening the King’s Shield; she’s the greatest fighter in the country.”

“The greatest behind the General, perhaps,” he retorted smugly. “I’ve trained with him for years; I could never lose to the likes of her, even with her divine shield.”

I felt a giddy rush of excitement as he fell perfectly into my trap, and I pulled the General’s belt out from behind my back and threw it to the stone plaza below. There was a loud chorus of gasps as both Unbound and Company men stepped back in shock. “You’re going to have to find a new teacher, Jerry. The General is no longer the greatest fighter in the country. He’s dead.”

Jeremiah stared at the belt in disbelief. The crowd around him continued to recede as he finally knelt down and reached for the swords, his hand trembling. “Liar,” he managed to squeak out between short, sharp breaths.

“It’s the truth,” the Strategist confirmed, seizing the opportunity I had created. “Jeremiah, if the Company is to survive, you must accept the terms and leave immediately. Take the belt to the Admiral, along with this message: Return to Last Cove and enact Sole Executor Two.” Jeremiah looked up to him with wide, fearful eyes. “Can I trust you with this?”

There was a long moment of silence as every eye in the plaza fell on the First Tactician. “Yes,” he replied weakly. “You can trust me.”

The Strategist looked almost fatherly as he smiled down to the young man. “Good. The Company will need your wisdom now more than ever.” He raised his voice to address the crowd once again. “Everything I did, I did for the good of my Company, as did the men under my command. You did what you did for the good of your country. Now, let us all do what is best, and end this conflict for good without further bloodshed.”

Val cleared her throat. “Men of the Company, return to your fleet. Empty the harbor by sundown, and never return to this place. Citizens of Attetsia, spread word throughout the city that the occupation has ended. When this man has been transferred into custody of the Golden Throne, I will return with aid to assist in restoring your city.” Her voice echoed over the hundreds of men gathered in the plaza, all standing silently before her. She snapped off a crisp salute. “Dismissed!”

Although none of the men were hers to command, they jumped into action at her dismissal and hastily began to disperse from the courtyard. Jeremiah remained motionless before us as he cradled the General’s bloody belt with the care of a parent holding their newborn child for the first time. His eyes scanned over its surface repeatedly, as if he believed there was some small detail he had missed that would make everything return to normalcy. After failing to find it for the hundredth time, his eyes suddenly snapped up to the stage. “I will not forget your face,” he promised me quietly. “This debt will be repaid.” He turned and walked away before I had a chance to respond, leaving us alone in the quiet plaza.

“It is time to leave,” Val said, motioning to the stairs. “With a tentative peace restored to Attetsia, we should return to our wagon and make for Yoria immediately.”

“Oh, sweet relief,” the Strategist sighed happily as he followed her down the steps, “you have a wagon. I was convinced we would be making the journey on foot.”

None of us engaged with his attempt at clever conversation, and our group quickly fell back into silence as we made our way out of the Council district. It was clear that the long night had started to take its toll on us from a quick glance at the faces of my companions; apart from myself, nobody had slept after our fight with the General, and the dark rings beneath Lia and the Strategist’s eyes were severely pronounced. Val’s face showed no outward signs of fatigue, as I had come to expect from her, but I found it difficult to believe she still had the unwavering strength she exuded.

Our walk through the streets of Attetsia was peaceful. Most roads were completely empty as we traveled back to Marin’s shop, and the ones that weren’t quickly made themselves so; every guard we encountered either rushed to the nearest possible exit as soon as we came into view, or pressed themselves up against the opposite buildings to allow us the widest berth possible. The mixture of fear and reverence on their faces repeatedly confirmed that both the King’s Shield and the Strategist were as famous as I had been told, and that the battle between them was a truly legendary event.

When Marin’s shop finally came into view, a second wagon was parked out front beside our own on the road. Before I had a chance to worry about who had arrived in our absence, a bright flash of red from within the new cart revealed Marin as she stacked and restacked small wooden crates. When the sound of our approaching footsteps reached her she looked up in alarm, then vaulted out of the back of her wagon and sprinted towards us. Val held up a hand before she could reach us, and Marin skidded to an abrupt stop.

“Good morning, my lady,” the Strategist said with a thick layer of false courtesy, “who might you—”

“No,” Val interrupted, shoving him roughly passed her sister. With a hand now gripped tightly around his elbow, she led him to our wagon without another word.

Marin turned to watch them for a brief moment before leaping forward and pulling us into a group hug. “I’m so glad you’re all