"Damn it! Being rich feels so good!" Rynar, with tears in his eyes, slipped the Ring of Glory onto his right index finger, feeling an urge to cry.
His fortune had shrunk instantly. But, honestly, when paired with the magic ring on his left hand, it looked quite stylish—almost giving him the vibe of a nouveau riche.
The gold base of the Ring of Glory, set with an eight-sided ruby, glimmered with faint traces of power, clearly showing it was no ordinary item.
"Hey! My lord, this ring is gorgeous! I can sense a divine aura from it..." Caslow suddenly leaned in, examining the ring on Rynar's finger with curiosity.
"Of course, it looks great! I just sunk 500,000 coins into it!" Rynar thought to himself.
In the game, Rynar had never obtained any of the Nine Knights' Rings, but he knew that five holy rings were held by Emperor Karl.
"Move aside! Don't talk nonsense if you don't understand!" Reynard appeared behind Caslow and shoved him aside.
After carefully observing the ring, Reynard dropped to one knee, bowing with respect.
"Congratulations, my king... This is the first of the holy rings—the Ring of Glory. It seems the glory of the Zaltarion Empire has recognized you."
Reynard spoke humbly, his head lowered in reverence. As a paladin, he had studied the holy rings in detail and could easily identify this divine artifact.
"What? Reynard, are you sure? This is the Ring of Glory?" Caslow was stunned.
"My king, you can try using the power of glory," Reynard suggested respectfully.
"Glory!" Although Rynar knew it was the Ring of Glory, he still followed Reynard's advice. Publicly displaying the return of the Ring of Glory would help strengthen the group's unity.
A bright crimson-gold light burst forth, different from the usual pale golden aura of ordinary knights.
Instinctively, Reynard, Caslow, and the knights around them released their own glories, their powers merging into one, with the crimson-gold energy uniting them in a powerful group technique right on the ground.
"May the gods bless Zaltarion!"
"Praise the Dragon God!"
...
"One of the five rings has returned... My king, you are destined to revive Zaltarion." Reynard murmured, gazing at Rynar.
In fact, the Zaltarion Empire had once solely possessed the Nine God Rings, which were originally created to combat the Nine Ringwraiths and their dark knights.
The system had altered their memories, leading them to believe these holy rings had existed long ago and were lost to time...
"Five rings?" Rynar asked in surprise.
"Yes. The first is the Ring of Glory, the second is the Ring of Mercy, the sixth is the Ring of Protection, the seventh is the Ring of Courage, and the ninth is the Ring of Sacrifice.
These rings once belonged to the royal family... but they were all lost over time." Reynard sighed.
"But the Ring of Glory has returned, hasn't it? The glory of Zaltarion will return with it," Rynar smiled at Reynard.
"You're right, my king!" Reynard nodded firmly.
"Nine rings, huh... That's going to be a long journey." Rynar gazed at the sky, daydreaming about how amazing it would feel to have rings on all ten fingers.
...
"My lord, there's an elf named Legolas requesting an audience," Reynard entered the command tent, finding Rynar sprawled lazily on a chair covered with soft furs.
"Legolas? What's he doing here?" Rynar was surprised.
According to Thranduil's instructions, he should be heading north to find the ranger known as Strider—later crowned as King Aragorn. Why was he coming here?
"Let him in," Rynar decided it was better to meet him, after all, Legolas was a key figure with a protagonist's aura.
"Legolas, long time no see!" Rynar stood up, nodding in greeting.
"King Rynar, it is an honor," Legolas placed his right hand over his chest in a respectful salute.
"Yes, is there something I can help you with? Ah, by the way, this place is still in disrepair, so we have nothing good to offer you.
If you don't mind, you're welcome to stay for some humble fare." Rynar spoke apologetically. As the host, it was embarrassing not to be able to properly entertain guests.
"No need to worry. I've come to inform you of news from the north!" Legolas, looking tense, pulled out a map from his cloak.
"The north? What are the orcs up to now?" Rynar's expression immediately sharpened.
He was particularly concerned about the orcs in the north, though those from the south were also on his radar.
"A large army of orcs is gathering at the fortress of Gundabad in the north..." Legolas said grimly.
"What?! No way! They've already begun gathering?" Rynar's eyes widened.
"Not yet, but while I was crossing the Grey Mountains, I saw orcs from the mountains heading towards Gundabad!" Legolas stared intently at Rynar.
"What about Bard and Thorin? What do they say?" Rynar asked.
"They are prepared to fight to the death to defend their homeland!" Legolas, it seemed, had already visited Erebor and Dale.
"The north will rely on them! I'll do my best to hold off the orcs from the south!" Rynar studied the map closely.
"The south?" Legolas was puzzled.
"Yes, Dol Guldur! The old fortress. Azog's orcs have been entrenched there. You haven't overlooked the south, have you?" Rynar asked in surprise.
"I came from the north..." Legolas scratched his head, embarrassed.
"Oh, well, never mind. I'll send men across the river to set up a lookout post on the west bank, and my troops will patrol along the River Running."
Rynar rubbed his temples, a little exasperated as he spoke to Legolas.
"That would be most appreciated! I must head north, so I won't stay long. Take care, King Rynar." Legolas bowed, then swiftly left the tent.
"Reynard!" Rynar called out.
"What's the matter, my king?" Reynard responded, entering.
"Put the city-building on hold for now. Take the knights across the river and set up camp on the other side! I'll have Radir assist you with building a watchtower.
Your task is to patrol the banks of the River Running every day and monitor the orcs' movements. Take Caslow with you—he'll make things easier for you all." Rynar instructed.
"Your will is my command!" Reynard bowed deeply.
As Reynard left, Rynar suddenly felt a wave of anxiety. He realized he wasn't fully prepared to face the orcs head-on.
The southern orcs of Dol Guldur would likely target Riverguard first, which still had unfinished defenses.
"Don't worry, Your Majesty... Winter is upon us now," Master Radir suddenly appeared in the tent.
"Winter?" Rynar pondered the word.
"Winter is not a good time for an offensive. You should be more concerned with how to face them come spring." Radir advised.
The orcs wouldn't attack in winter. Even if they hadn't suffered great losses from the Battle of the Five Armies, they would still need time to recover their strength.
"Looks like we need to prepare for the Second Battle of the Lonely Mountain," Rynar sighed.
"Or perhaps the Battle of Riverguard..." Rynar muttered to himself with a touch of irony.
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The next morning, Reynard led all the members of the knight order across the River Running in groups.
With the help of Radir, they constructed a stronghold that, while not particularly beautiful, was undeniably sturdy.
The entire outpost was built directly by Radir using earth magic, surrounded by a square stone wall measuring 100 meters long, 3 meters high, and 6 meters thick.
Inside, they erected wooden shelters to serve as stables, and at the center stood a watchtower measuring 10 meters wide and 15 meters tall, used for vigilance and living quarters.
At the very top, a beacon was built to signal to Riverguard across the river.
The price of establishing this outpost was that old Radir drained his stock of mana potions, leaving him weak from overexertion.
"Caslow, you stay here. I'll take a team to scout along the riverbank," Reynard waved his hand at Caslow.
"Sure, don't engage unless necessary. If things get hairy, we can retreat to Riverguard and defend from there," Caslow advised, wary of Rynar getting lured too deeply by the orcs, especially since the knight order was at a disadvantage without their battle energy.
"Defending from the city…" Reynard's lips twitched at the thought of Riverguard's pitiful walls, making him feel even less confident.
"Get going and come back early!" Caslow urged, giving a swift kick to his steed's flank. The fine Shire warhorse shot off like an arrow.
"Boom!" The sound of pounding hooves echoed as Reynard led the Radiant Knights further away.
"Hope everything goes smoothly," Caslow sighed, then mounted his dragon saddle.
With a powerful flap of its wings, the four-legged dragon took to the sky, heading deep into the Dark Forest.
…
"Hmm~ How's the scouting going?" Azog's small eyes fixated on a orc before him, his voice menacing.
"Master… we haven't discovered anything yet… that army seems to have appeared out of nowhere," the orc leader stammered.
"Roar!"
Azog growled, the iron claw embedded in his left arm driving into the orc's neck.
With a mighty lift, he hoisted the creature high before casually tossing it into the pack of wolves nearby, where dozens of them sprang into action, tearing it apart in mid-air.
"Useless, unworthy of living!" Azog sneered, the countless orcs beneath him bowing their heads in fear.
"Find them! I want to know where they came from!" His furious roar echoed through the abandoned ancient castle.
…
"My lord, we've reached Old Forest Road!" A knight reported to the halted Reynard.
Returning here, Reynard felt nostalgic; those valiant Rapid Infantry had marched north with the king to participate in the Battle of the Lonely Mountain.
Now… they were back, but those who had gone were left behind at the Lonely Mountain.
"Form teams of ten and spread out to scout!" Reynard surveyed the surroundings before casually instructing.
…
"Human knights…" The keen-eared orcs detected the Knights before they could spot them. They stealthily hid in the shadows of the trees, ready to pounce at any moment…
…
"Why does it feel so eerie?" One knight raised his lance warily, scanning the area.
"Be careful!"
"I feel something here… ah!" A knight screamed as a orc dropped from above, plunging its dagger into the knight's body.
Due to the angle, the dagger pierced through the plate armor and lodged in the knight's shoulder.
"Roar!" The enraged knights swung their swords, fighting back fiercely.
"Orcs!" The cry echoed far and wide.
"Capture them! We need to get out of here!" A orc lieutenant waved to the approaching Orcs.
"Glory, mercy… humility!" The knights bolstered themselves with various states of resolve, aside from sacrifice.
"For the glory of Zaltarion! Charge!" Ten surrounded knights burst through the weak orc encirclement like a thunderbolt, galloping away.
"Rek! Hold on! Stay awake!" The galloping knights shielded the injured knight in the middle, racing out of the forest.
The accompanying knights kept calling out to the wounded knight, urging him not to drift into unconsciousness.
"Lord Reynard! Orcs!" Upon spotting Reynard and the others by the riverbank, the knights quickly carried their teammate to them.
"Stay alert!" Reynard immediately focused on the injured knight.
"Divine Inspiration! Divine Healing!" A soft golden light enveloped the knight, and as he regained consciousness, he gritted his teeth and pulled the embedded dagger from his flesh.
"Hmm~" The pain contorted his face, and he gripped his weapon tightly to ease the agony.
"Alright, young man! You're very brave." As he passed by Reynard, the knight suddenly heard those words.
The excessive blood loss was making him drowsy, but under the Divine Healing spell, his wounds began to heal and scab over rapidly…
"Clang!"
Reynard casually hung his lance by the saddle and drew forth his beloved knight sword. Compared to the cumbersome lance, the 1.5-meter-long knight sword felt incredibly nimble.
"Slash!"
Reynard called out, channeling all his battle energy into the knight sword. The balanced, holy battle energy formed a sword aura extending about 3 meters beyond the blade.
As the command left his lips, the golden sword aura swiftly swept through the advancing orcs, dissipating behind them.
The orcs that were grazed by the sword aura continued to charge forward with their upper bodies, but their lower halves were cleaved apart, leaving them writhing on the ground in agony, howling in pain.
Reynard coldly observed as they rolled in their own entrails and blood.
He closely examined their totem and realized these orcs came from the same place as the first batch encountered at the foot of the Lonely Mountain—Dol Guldur!
"This is troublesome! The orcs are already creeping up right under our noses…" Reynard's eyes filled with anxiety.
If it hadn't been for Legolas bringing news of the northern orcs' movements, Rynar might not have even thought of the southern orc army until they were at their doorstep.
"We can't fight on two fronts…" One knight murmured as he looked at the unfolding chaos.
"But it seems we'll have to!" Reynard sighed softly, gazing into the distance.
…
"So… Azog in the south can't hold back any longer?" Rynar looked surprised as he regarded Reynard's report inside the warm tent.
"We're in big trouble…" Old Radir, weakened, played with the griffin egg he had brought.
"Yeah, this trouble is anything but ordinary. If they attack, we'll be the first to face them.
Dale and Erebor can offer us little help, as they need to be on guard against northern orcs crossing the Lonely Mountain to strike at them.
The only ones who can get involved are the elves… but what can you expect from them?" Rynar analyzed.
"Wow! So it turns out we have no useful allies!" Caslow rolled his eyes.
"Instead of hoping for reinforcements from them, we should consider the army of Ironfoot Dain," Radir raised an eyebrow.
"Your Majesty! There's a situation across the river!" A Battanian archer suddenly burst in.
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