A massive Jingguan stood piled beside the road. Purple-black blood had melted the surrounding snow into foul-smelling purple sludge. The headless troll corpses were stacked in layer upon layer, their severed heads stuffed into the gaps between the bodies. Those wide-eyed heads sent chills down one's spine, their twisted expressions still carrying a trace of confusion and terror.
If there had been any survivors, they would never have forgotten the infantry formations advancing like the Great Wall. And the Lagrange City Guards were Professional Soldiers, not ordinary soldiers like the Swift River Infantry. The Swift River Infantry could only fight in formation by relying on numbers and teamwork; their individual combat strength and survivability were low on a vast battlefield. But the Lagrange City Guards were different. Their individual combat capabilities were equally formidable. After the trolls had been broken up and divided by the City Guards' formation, the guards who swarmed in had chopped them into mince!
"Won't this cause a plague?" Bard looked worriedly at the corpse mountain that had been piled into a Jingguan. Trolls were huge and fat, and once they decayed, they could become a source of infection. The Northern Territory had suffered a plague once before. Just hearing about such a thing made Bard shudder with lingering fear.
"No. I piled them beside the road precisely because there's no cover here. Once the sun comes out, they'll turn to stone! These trolls haven't been modified by Mordor; they fear sunlight!" Roland shook his head. He had calculated everything perfectly. After all, those fools from The Lonely Mountain Expedition had dealt with trolls during the expedition. In the original story, those trolls had turned directly into stone statues under Gandalf's sunlight. They had even dropped a batch of Gold Coins and equipment for the expedition.