In the morning, the hardworking Hobbits began another cheerful day. They moved between the fields and the mill, warm smiles on their faces, chatting with one another without the slightest hint of tension. It was a picture of peace and harmony!
"Bad news! Bad news! An army's coming!" A sudden cry came from outside the town, and a Hobbit scrambled and stumbled his way into town.
"An army? What army?" The people around him exchanged looks, confusion showing in their eyes. These Hobbits were at a loss.
Clack! Clack! Clack! Before they could come back to their senses, the sound of armor plates scraping together came from the distant road. The Hobbits hurriedly raised their heads and looked over.
The wide country lane had already been covered by a wave of silver light. Under the sun, the gleam of armor joined into one shining mass. Soldiers marched in tight, orderly ranks, while Knights on tall horses patrolled both sides of the formation from time to time.
Clang! The hoe in one Hobbit's hand fell to the ground. He stared in shock at the armored soldiers marching past him in formation.
"S-something terrible's happened! An army's attacking..."
"It's over! The army's back..."
"What's going on? Why is it so noisy?" Roland looked at the chaotic crowd ahead and said with some dissatisfaction.
"Franz! Go take a look! Tell them not to block the road! We need to pass!" Roland raised his hand and pointed.
"As you command, Your Majesty!" Marquis Al-Teglang-Franz nodded, a trace of coldness flashing through his eyes.
"No, no, no! Roland, don't!" Bilbo, riding on a pony, reached out and tugged at Roland's cloak. He tried to grab Roland's arm armor, but full plate armor was far too smooth, and he could not get a grip at