Hill Giants

"Full speed ahead! We're a day behind them!" Roland urged.

"My lord, there's no need to worry too much. They don't have horses, and we're much faster than them," Caslo reassured Roland.

The result was that he was met with looks as if he were an idiot. Caslo followed everyone's gaze and saw them. Good grief… 200 fully armed Swift River Infantry were trudging along, carrying their spears and shields.

"Fine! I take it back!" Caslo said helplessly.

Incidentally, the Swift River Infantry were named Swift River not just because they were infantry recruited from the Swift River region, but also because they were quick to train, strong, and had great endurance. Long-distance marches were their specialty, but that didn't mean they could match cavalry speed.

Caslo: I feel personally attacked.

"Boom~" A clap of thunder echoed from the sky, and lightning snaked across it.

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

"Perhaps everyone needs to take shelter and rest," Roland said, looking at the sky.

"Whoosh~ Boom!" Suddenly, a massive boulder fell from the sky, landing heavily not far from Roland and the others. Everyone quickly raised their shields to block the splashing debris.

"We're being attacked! Alert!" Caslo was the first to react.

"What the heck! Look up!" Roland casually glanced up at the valley beside him and then his entire being just about split open.

"Hill Giants!"

"Run!" Reno shouted.

Everyone instantly wished their parents had given them two more legs and fled desperately out of the valley.

"Damn it, how can there be Hill Giants here? Aren't Hill Giants extinct?" Caslo said in disarray, rainwater mixed with dust flowing down him like mud.

"Who the hell knows! It's just ridiculous!" Reno exclaimed in frustration.

"Are Hill Giants evil or lawful?" Roland couldn't help but ask.

"Neutral! Those barbarians just want to live their own quiet lives. By rights, they should have gone extinct in the First Age!" Reno said, puzzled.

"Perhaps they're survivors," Caslo said, glancing back at the noisy valley with lingering fear.

"If I'm not mistaken, were they just playing with mountain tops?" Roland asked curiously.

"Yeah, those barbarians really liked to play with throwing stones during thunderstorms. We're really lucky…" Reno sighed.

Wait! Roland froze. Are these the Stone Giants from The Hobbit 1 who played with throwing stones? Roland had just taken a look. He estimated these Hill Giants were at least 50 meters tall. Every movement they made felt world-ending… They were truly terrifying. Thinking about how they had just passed by them, Roland broke out in a cold sweat.

"My lord, we can't proceed…" Reno frowned.

"It's indeed too dangerous. Don't worry, I won't disregard the lives of my people. The Lagrange Empire is still waiting for my revival. After all, I am the last Lagrange Lord," Roland nodded, affirming Reno's thoughts.

"Let everyone rest and maintain vigilance. We are already in the Misty Mountains, and Orcs could attack at any moment!" Roland instructed.

"Yes, my lord!" Reno turned and left.

Caslo had also set up the tents by then. He quickly escorted Roland back to his tent to prevent him from catching a cold in the rain.

"My lord, how should we proceed tomorrow?" Caslo inquired.

"Tomorrow, we'll see if the Stone Giants have left. If they're still playing there, we'll have to take a detour, as we can't defeat them," Roland said, getting a headache just thinking about those rocky brutes.

Lying in bed, Roland tossed and turned, unable to sleep. It seemed this world was somewhat different from the original story, movies, and games. Perhaps because there were no players, Middle-earth, which had the Ring System's world view, had merged with the original story, resulting in a bizarre, hybrid world.

"Heavens, have mercy on me, please stop! Don't let the Battle of Five Armies go wrong," Roland prayed.

He could clearly feel that due to his involvement, the pursuing Orcs had increased. Perhaps the enemy's forces in this Battle of Five Armies would be greater than he had anticipated.

"Perhaps it's because I've changed history, touching important timelines," Roland mused.

"I can't travel with them anymore!" Roland suddenly sat up.

"Things need to change. Since I can't reverse history, I will change history! I will arrive on the battlefield as reinforcements! Let this war become a Battle of Six Armies," Roland decided in his heart.

"Sleep, sleep, my life is important. I knew I shouldn't have run out in the middle of the night. Rivendell is so good, and there are beautiful Elf ladies there," Roland lamented.

After all, he hadn't stayed in Rivendell for long. He hadn't had time to explore Rivendell, experience the local customs, and ideally, have some pleasant encounters with beautiful Elf ladies…

"Alas! What a pity! What a regret!" Roland was remorseful. Thinking about it now, Thorin and the others had nothing to do with him. He just wanted to find some reliable allies and earn a little money… Besides, that Dain Ironfoot was also an honest man. Letting him become the King Under the Mountain as in history wouldn't be bad either. Bard the Dragonslayer was also a friend he could get to know well. The Dale he rebuilt also had some war potential.

Roland planned to build a city in the Swift River basin first to establish the framework of the Kingdom of Lagrange. This should allow him to harvest another wave of system rewards. The thought of system rewards made Roland's demonic little tail wag happily.

"There's not much time left… I probably won't be able to gather 1,000 people before the war starts," Roland calculated with some regret.

"Ring System, oh Ring System! I'm not asking for a thousand people, I'm just asking for another 100 Swift River Infantry. At least give me enough for the Swift River Battle Formation of 300 people," Roland muttered to the Ring System in his hand.

Meanwhile.

"Gandalf! Think of something quickly!" the group, perched on pine trees by Wargs, anxiously looked at Gandalf.

Obscure incantations were uttered, and a six-pointed star magic circle formed in front of Gandalf.

"Go!" Gandalf opened his eyes, waved his staff, and dozens of fireball-sized fireballs flew out from the six-pointed star. Instantly, over a thousand square meters of land in front of them, along with the Orcs and Wargs on it, turned into scorched earth.

"Well done, Gandalf!" everyone cheered happily. After all, an advanced spell—Meteor Shower—gave everyone confidence and courage.

"Uh, gentlemen, I think we can wait to cheer… It seems the Orcs ahead don't want us to be too happy…" Bilbo stammered.

"Oh! God of Forging above!"

"My goodness..."

Under the starry sky, a dense mass of Orc wolf riders closed in, led by the pale Orc Azog himself!

"Impossible!" Thorin froze in disbelief.

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

"Fire-mark!" Gandalf, just as he had in history, began his baffling human tactic – lighting pinecones.

Everyone lit the pinecones they held and threw them towards Azog and the surrounding Orcs.

"Roar!" Seeing the Wargs halted by the flames, hesitant to advance, Azog let out an enraged roar.

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