The dwarves' jaw-dropping antics had really opened the brothers' eyes. Roland especially nearly spat out a mouthful of blood. His own kingdom had practically been reduced to chewing bark, while these guys were still drinking wine...
"Ahem, let's not talk about that. How should we advance?" Thorin quickly coughed.
"Let's rest for two days first. The situation here won't worsen over such a short time. If they can still hold the line, that means there's no problem. If they couldn't hold it, the front would've collapsed long ago!" Roland shook his head. He saw things clearly: battle reports could lie, but the front line could not. Since the Beornings' army could still hold the Karlok line, there was no need for them to worry.
"Fine!" After taking another look, the other Kings also decided to follow Roland's suggestion. After all, no one was eager to rush into battle. With the mindset that less trouble was better, they were more than happy if the Beornings could hold on. Thranduil especially loved this arrangement. Having someone else guard his flank without lifting a finger was simply wonderful. It cost him nothing and reduced one direction of defense.
"What's wrong? Itching for a fight?" Roland looked at the restless Omsk, amusement flashing through his eyes.
"Uh..." Omsk rubbed his hands and gave an awkward smile. There had been few opportunities for him to shine along the way. The only chance had gone to Lavien, and that fellow had made a complete mess of it. Afterward, the minor bandits were hardly worth Omsk's effort.
"You'll get plenty of fighting later! Those Giant Ogres will be enough to make you puke!" Roland laughed carelessly. The Junlin Family did control the passes through the Misty Mountains, but there were still many threats at the mountain