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9.85% Lord of the Rings: Warriors / Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Elrond

Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Elrond

"Sir, don't you think we're being a bit too bold here…?" Reynard cautiously approached after finishing his preparations.

"What else can we do? I need to know where Rivendell is, and it's not like we had many options," Rynar shrugged helplessly.

"Sigh, I hope this doesn't lead to any misunderstandings with the elves…" Reynard glanced at the elves tied up nearby, still struggling against their bonds.

"I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up when the elves show up," Rynar waved dismissively and found a comfortable spot under a tree to lie down.

Meanwhile, in Rivendell…

"Lord Elrond! Lindir's scouting team has gone missing!" A messenger elf came rushing in with the news.

"Hm? When did they leave?" Elrond narrowed his eyes.

"They left at dawn. Lindir mentioned they were patrolling to guard against orcs coming down from the North. But it's been half a day now, and we still haven't heard anything…"

"Gather the troops. We'll go find Lindir," Elrond ordered, his face grave.

"Gods, please keep them safe…" Elrond muttered a quiet prayer.

"Sir, something's off…" Caslow shook Rynar awake.

"What is it…" Rynar opened his eyes and froze.

"What the—why are we surrounded by an elven army?" Rynar asked Reynard in disbelief.

"Uh, maybe there's been some sort of misunderstanding," Reynard pointed at Lindir and the other elves still tied up beside them.

"This wasn't part of the plan!" Rynar was stunned. 

In his mind, even if the scouting party went missing, the elves would probably send a small reconnaissance group to investigate. Who would've thought they'd mobilize their entire army…

What Rynar didn't know was that the orcs had caught wind of the dwarves' expedition and had sent several groups of warg riders south to intercept them. 

The group Rynar encountered yesterday was just one of them. 

Elrond, thinking a large orc army was heading south, had hastily brought out his forces to search for enemies. 

What they found instead was a small group of humans resting under a tree, with Lindir and his scouts tied up. 

Naturally, Elrond assumed the humans were preparing for war against the elves.

Three thousand elven archers were arranged in formation behind them, with a thousand mounted elves riding moon-deer in front. 

Behind the lines, the ripple of magical energy hinted at a dozen elven mages among their ranks. Rynar's hundred rapid infantrymen slammed their shields into the ground. 

Only now did Rynar realize the so-called "iron-plated shields" were actually just leather-covered metal! 

The five-meter-long spears pointed skyward. 

Behind them were the Battanian archers, who had dismounted and taken cover behind the infantry, positioning themselves to protect their more fragile bodies (relative to heavy-armored soldiers).

The knights had also mounted their horses, gathering together and preparing to unleash a combined attack with their battle energy.

"Let's go!" Rynar understood that there was no escaping this situation. He turned to Reynard and Caslow, signaling them to follow him as they walked forward.

On the other side, Elrond approached, riding his moon-deer.

"What gives you the right to trespass on elven land and capture our people?" Elrond's tone was far from friendly.

"Lord Elrond?" Rynar immediately recognized him. He looked just like in the movies!

"Hm? You know me? But I've never seen you. Who are you? Where are you from, and where are you going?" Elrond was surprised, his eyes gleaming as he cast some kind of detection spell.

"Holy—he's a champion! This half-elf is actually a champion…" Rynar was shocked. 

After all, elves were famous for their archers, mages, and rangers, but their warriors…well, that was a different story.

"We're remnants of the Zaltarion Empire. Our homeland was destroyed by the Rovaroth

people…" Rynar quickly deflected from the sad topic. In a way, he wasn't lying—the Zaltarion Empire had indeed been dismembered.

"We've come specifically to find you, Lord Elrond!" Rynar saluted respectfully.

"To find me?" Elrond asked, puzzled.

"To be precise, we're looking for the group of dwarves, humans, and Gandalf who entered Rivendell," Rynar explained.

"Hm?" Elrond's expression grew wary as he studied Rynar.

"Uh, you misunderstand. We're knights hired by Thorin Oakenshield. 

We've got ten of our brothers with them, but we didn't know how to reach Rivendell, so… this was our only option," Rynar shrugged apologetically.

"Why didn't you ask Lindir and his team?" Elrond pointed incredulously at the bruised elves tied up nearby.

"Uh…maybe we scared them a bit. As soon as they saw us, they got ready to attack, so we had no choice but to subdue them first," Rynar rolled his eyes and made up an excuse on the spot.

"…" Elrond was speechless.

"So, can you release them now?" Elrond asked, his face darkening.

"Of course! Caslow, go untie them, now!" Rynar pretended to be furious.

"Yes, sir!" Caslow hurried over to free the elves.

"You bastard! I'll kill you!" Lindir's wails echoed from the side.

"What? Thorin's group left already? And they left my men behind?" Rynar was incredulous as Elrond relayed the news to him on their way to Rivendell.

"Yes, your soldiers were very loyal. They insisted on waiting for your return before setting out. Thorin, not wanting to waste time, left first," Elrond explained.

"Unbelievable!" Rynar was stunned. Thorin had quietly ditched them! Wait! 

The Last Light of Durin! Damn it! Rynar suddenly sat up in shock. Had he really just been played like that?

"Lord Elrond, I need your help! I have to catch up to them!" Rynar urgently pleaded.

"What's going on?" Elrond asked, confused.

"Our cover's been blown! The orcs must already know about the dwarves heading to the Lonely Mountain. They'll ambush them in the Misty Mountains. 

Without our help, they'll all die there! The bloodline of Durin is about to end!" Rynar said seriously.

"We encountered warg riders from Gundabad and orcs from Mount Gundabad! They're after us!" Seeing that Elrond was skeptical, Rynar quickly added.

Elrond gave Rynar a long look and sped up his pace. "Follow me!"

"Sir! We're so relieved to see you safe and sound!" A Battanian archer stepped forward.

"Thank Zaltarion! Our lord is unharmed!"

"Alright, stand down," Rynar waved them off.

"Lord Elrond, where did the dwarves go?" Rynar asked anxiously.

"There." Elrond pointed to a narrow path winding through the mountains.

"You've got to be kidding me! Can they even ride horses there?" Rynar looked in disbelief at the barely one-person-wide trail.

"They actually abandoned their horses. They snuck out during the night," Elrond shrugged.

"Damn it! They're marching to their deaths! The orcs will tear them apart! Where's Gandalf?" Rynar asked, fuming.

"They left Gandalf behind too…" Elrond spread his hands.

Rynar forced himself to calm down. Damn Thorin! That stubborn, arrogant dwarf had ruined Rynar's plans. 

The orcs chasing them would be numerous, and without Gandalf, they wouldn't stand a chance… Rynar couldn't help but wonder if he still had time to return to the Shire.

"It's getting late. You should rest for the night," Elrond glanced at Rynar before turning to leave.

Rynar watched him go without saying a word. The situation was spiraling out of control. 

Gandalf was likely heading to Dol Guldur, and the dwarves might fall into the hands of goblins in the mountains. Bilbo, as history foretold, would still likely find the One Ring…

"It seems the tides of history are nearly impossible to change…" Rynar sighed, feeling a wave of frustration.

As the moon rose high in the sky, Rynar found himself unable to sleep. Finally, he got up and sought out Caslow and Reynard.

"Gather the troops! We're setting out!" Rynar declared firmly. The treasures of the Lonely Mountain were now within reach, and perhaps he could even claim Dale for himself.

"Yes, sir!" The two exchanged glances and quickly left to carry out the orders.

"System! Sign in! I need something useful!" Rynar muttered to himself.

"Sign-in successful! You have received 100 Zaltarion Empire Rapid Infantry!"

"Another 100 rapid infantry?" Rynar was surprised.

"Lord Elrond, they've taken the path you indicated," Lindir reported as he approached Elrond, who stood on a high platform.

"Yes, they've gone… Shadows from the North, shadows from the South… Sigh! I have a feeling that peace in Middle-earth won't last much longer," Elrond sighed deeply.


Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Mountain Giants

"Full speed ahead! We've lost a whole day on them!" Rynar urged.

"My lord, there's really no need to worry too much. They don't have horses, and we can outrun them easily," Caslow reassured Rynar.

This earned him a few looks of disbelief from the others. 

Following their gaze, Caslow was taken aback… 200 fully armed rapid infantrymen were trudging along, carrying their spears and shields with labored breaths.

"Great! Pretend I didn't say anything!" Caslow said helplessly.

By the way, the rapid infantry were named not only because they were recruited from the River Running region but also because they trained rapidly, were physically strong, and had great endurance. 

They excelled in long-distance marches, but that didn't mean they could match the speed of cavalry.

Carlos felt a twinge of offense.

A thunderous "Boom~" echoed from the sky as silver serpents twisted above.

"It's going to rain heavily!" Reynard said gravely.

"Maybe everyone should take shelter and rest for a while," Rynar suggested, glancing at the sky.

"Whoosh~ Boom!" Suddenly, a massive boulder plummeted from the sky and landed heavily not far from Rynar and the others, prompting everyone to raise their shields against the flying debris.

"Someone's attacking! Stay alert!" Caslow was the first to react.

"Holy hell! Look above!" Rynar accidentally glanced up at the neighboring valley, and his heart nearly stopped.

"Mountain giants!"

"Run!" Reynard shouted.

In an instant, everyone cursed their parents for not giving them two extra legs and sprinted toward the valley exit.

"Damn it, how can there be mountain giants here? Aren't they supposed to be extinct?" Caslow exclaimed, mud and rain mixing on his body.

"Who the hell knows! This is ridiculous!" Reynard replied, losing his mind.

"Are mountain giants part of the evil camp or the lawful camp?" Rynar couldn't help but ask.

"They're neutral! Those barbarians just want to live their own little lives. They should have gone extinct in the First Age!" Reynard explained, confused.

"Maybe they're survivors," Caslow said, glancing nervously at the commotion in the valley behind them.

"If I'm not mistaken, they were throwing boulders just now?" Rynar asked curiously.

"Yeah, those barbarians love throwing stones during thunderstorms. We've really got the worst luck…" Reynard sighed.

Wait a minute! Rynar was taken aback. 

Are these the stone giants that were throwing stones in The Hobbit? 

From his quick glance, these mountain giants were at least 50 meters tall, and every movement of theirs felt like it could cause catastrophic destruction… 

It was terrifying to think they had just passed so close to them; cold sweat broke out on Rynar's forehead.

"My lord, we can't go any further…" Reynard frowned.

"It's definitely too dangerous. Don't worry, I won't risk the lives of my people. 

The Zaltarion Empire is still waiting for my revival; after all, I'm the last lord of Zaltarion," Rynar nodded, confirming Reynard's thoughts.

"Let everyone rest and stay on alert. We're now in the Misty Mountains; half-orcs could attack at any moment!" Rynar commanded.

"Yes, my lord!" Reynard replied, turning to leave.

Caslow had set up the tent by then and quickly escorted Rynar inside to prevent him from getting drenched.

"My lord, what's our plan for tomorrow?" Caslow asked.

"We'll see if the stone giants have moved on. 

If they're still playing there, we'll have to take a detour. After all, we can't defeat them," Rynar said, already feeling a headache at the thought of those boulder-headed giants.

Lying in bed, Rynar tossed and turned, struggling to sleep. It seemed this world was somewhat different from the original works, movies, and games. 

Perhaps because there were no players, the world of Middle-earth, originally set in game, had merged with the original narrative, resulting in this strange, hybrid world.

"Oh, heavens, have mercy on me! Please don't let anything go wrong with the Battle of the Five Armies," Rynar prayed. 

He could clearly sense that his involvement had led to an increase in half-orc pursuers. 

Perhaps this time, the enemy's forces for the Battle of the Five Armies would be greater than he had anticipated.

"Maybe it's because I've altered history and touched an important timeline," Rynar contemplated.

"I can't travel with them any longer!" Rynar suddenly sat up.

"I need to make a change. 

Since I can't reverse history, I'll change it! I will arrive as reinforcements on the battlefield! Let's make this the Battle of Six Armies!" Rynar resolved within himself.

"Sleep, sleep. My life is more important! If I'd known, I wouldn't have run out in the middle of the night. Rivendell was so nice, with beautiful elf maidens." Rynar lamented.

After all, he hadn't stayed in Rivendell long enough; he hadn't even had the chance to explore and experience the local customs, let alone have any joyful encounters with the lovely elven ladies…

"Oh, what a pity! What a regret!" Rynar moaned. Now that he thought about it, Thorin and the others had nothing to do with him. 

He was just looking for some reliable allies and hoping to earn a little money on the side… Besides, that honest Dain was also a good guy; letting him become the King under the Mountain, as in history, would be fine. 

Bard the Bowman was also someone he could build a deep friendship with; after all, the revitalized Lake-town had some potential for war.

Rynar planned to build a city in the rapid region first to establish the framework of the Zaltarion Kingdom, which should yield another round of system rewards. 

The thought of those rewards made Rynar's little demon tail wag with joy.

"There's not much time left… I probably won't be able to gather 1,000 men before the war starts," Rynar calculated, feeling a bit disappointed.

"Oh, system! I'm not asking for a thousand men; I just hope for another 100 rapid infantry! At least give me enough for the 300-man for formation," Rynar muttered to the system ring in his hand.

...

Meanwhile...

"Gandalf! Think of something!" The people, chased by the wargs, anxiously looked at Gandalf.

A cryptic incantation echoed as a six-pointed star formation appeared before Gandalf.

"Go!" 

Gandalf opened his eyes, waved his staff, and immediately dozens of fireballs, each the size of a head, flew out from the star, turning over a thousand square meters of ground—and the half-orcs and wargs on it—into scorched earth.

"Well done, Gandalf!" the others cheered, as a high-level spell—Meteor Swarm—gave them confidence and morale.

"Um, gentlemen, I think we should hold off on the celebration… It seems those half-orcs up ahead aren't too keen on our joy…" Bilbo stammered.

"Oh! By the Gods of Smithing!"

"My goodness…"

Under the starry sky, a dark wave of half-orc warg riders surrounded them, led by the pale half-orc Azog!

"No way!" Thorin was momentarily stunned.

"This is mine! Kill everyone else!" Azog roared.

"Firebrands!" Gandalf, as he did in history, began the human trickery—lighting the pine cones.

Everyone ignited their pine cones and threw them at Azog and the other half-orcs.

"Roar!" The wargs hesitated, unwilling to move forward due to the flames, and Azog roared angrily.


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