The Battle of Five Armies (1)

Everything proceeded as in the original history. The Elves, led by Thranduil, prepared to fight the Dwarves of the Iron Hills…

"Boom!" The foot of a distant mountain shook, and several hideous maws emerged from the ground.

"They've forgotten about the existence of giant earth serpents," Azog said, his face contorted with ferocity.

A dense mass of Orcs surged from underground, charging at high speed. They held their shield-arms in front of them, their other hands gripping their weapons tightly, howling as they rushed toward the Elves, Dwarves, and Humans.

"The devils are coming for us!" Dain Ironfoot roared, yanking the reins to turn his mount, a wild boar.

"Fight! Fight! Sons of Durin!" Dain bellowed.

The Dwarves, who had been preparing for a decisive battle against the Elven army, turned their heads and began to charge with their short legs. With the resounding clang of shields colliding, a wide shield wall formed in the path of the Orcs. Roland had guessed wrong about this; there were a full 1,500 Dwarves, with over 500 of them being professionals, making them truly elite Dwarves.

"Elves… why aren't they fighting?" Bilbo asked Gandalf, looking up at the indifferent Elves.

"Thranduil! You can't do this!" Gandalf shouted at Thranduil.

Thranduil hesitated, then looked back at the arrayed Dwarves…

"Speed up! We need to get to the battlefield!" Roland said gravely. He needed to assess the situation before deciding whether to jump into this abyss. While not the most competent lord, he was definitely a conscientious one. He knew how to care for his subordinates and wouldn't subject them to pointless sacrifices in battles they couldn't win.

"We need to flank to the left side of the battlefield!" Roland directed everyone. After all, appearing directly behind the Orc army wouldn't be wise. If the Orcs turned and attacked them, Roland estimated they'd have to flee immediately. Roland was currently walking on a tightrope over a bottomless abyss; one wrong step could lead to eternal damnation. Having a system didn't mean he had the capital to squander! Without a complete logistical system and reserve troops, Roland was like a rootless duckweed; any defeat would be a disaster…

As for why they needed to flank to the left, as mentioned, a rear attack would be useless with Roland's current strength, only serving to deliver his head. The right flank not only had Ravenhill, where Azog was commanding, but also the potential for reinforcements from the Fortress of Gundabad, who could join the battle at any moment. If they really ran over there, the situation would be dire… Imagine being caught between at least 20,000 Orcs… even Dragon Knights could be swarmed and killed. It was important to remember that there were also professionals among the Orcs; their formidable warriors and shamans skilled in curses were all major problems facing Roland.

"Arooooh!" The Orcs roared, crashing into the Dwarven shield wall.

Suddenly, the Orcs at the very front were blinded by the sunlight. But it wasn't sunlight… it was the glint of blades from the Elf Rangers.

Ranger Profession Leveling: Novice Ranger, Ranger, Intermediate Ranger, Advanced Ranger, Eagle-eyed Ranger, and the highest title, The Huntsman.

It had to be said that Thranduil had invested heavily this time, deploying nearly a thousand Ranger professionals. The Elven Rangers swung their scimitars through the air, the blades imbued with various types of Battle Qi slicing through Orcish armor, muscle, blood vessels, and bones as easily as a hot knife through butter…

The Orcs were stunned by the sudden attack. They wildly swung their weapons to block, and several vine whips emerged from the void.

"Crack! Crack! Crack!" After the crisp sound of whips, the surrounding Orcs were all whipped until they bled profusely. Some Orcs even had their heads severed by the vine whips. This was the skill of several Advanced Rangers – Whip of the Jungle: summoning a cluster of vines to continuously whip enemies.

"Kill! For the glory of Durin!" The Dwarves, receiving support, no longer cowered behind their shields. They removed their shields, raised their weapons, and charged directly at the oncoming Orcs.

"Heavy Slash!" The Warrior-class professionals among the Dwarves unleashed their skills. The sharp Dwarven battleaxes, enveloped in Battle Qi, descended from above, and the surging Battle Qi blades overturned a group of Orcs.

"Fire!" The Elf Archers arrayed behind them nocked their arrows. A full 3,000 Elf Archers unleashed volleys of arrows imbued with various skills.

"Roar!"

"Aow!"

"Hao!"

A wave of arrows successfully halted the Orc army, cutting off their reinforcements. The dense arrow rain left large gaps in their ranks.

"Good heavens! It's really turned into a complete mess?" Roland and his companions sprawled on the mountaintop, pointing and chattering at the heated battlefield below.

"My lord, are we really going to join the fight like this?" Reno asked darkly, feeling that Roland might be leading them straight into hell.

"Don't forget, we haven't gotten our commission back yet. All the capital we started with is in this mountain…" Roland glanced at the still-sealed Erebor, his heart burning with desire for the mountains of treasure within the city.

"Let's see how things unfold first," Roland said, not rushing to a conclusion but carefully observing the battlefield.

"There are at least 4,000 Elves! The Dwarves should be around 1,000. The soldiers from Lake-town, about 200, plus some recruited laborers, should be around 500!" Roland muttered. This was far more than in history. And because of Roland, the people of Lake-town had escaped Smaug's fiery wrath, so the significant increase in human soldiers was understandable.

"But the Orcs are at least 15,000 strong…" Caslo calculated weakly.

"Alas, that doesn't even include the Orc reinforcements from the Fortress of Gundabad…" Roland sighed. If it weren't for the sake of the damned money to exchange for wealth points for development, Roland truly wouldn't want to get involved in this mess. He had long passed the stage of youthful ambition from when he first transmigrated. This was a real world! Every decision he made might cost the lives of his subordinates or even himself. This wasn't a game!

"They can't fight on two fronts! Attack Dale!" Azog's eyes spotted the allied forces' weakness. Standing on Ravenhill, he employed this strategy of attacking where the enemy must defend.

Humans would return to protect their elderly and weak in Dale, and Dwarves would not retreat an inch to protect Erebor. However, the Elven army's numbers only allowed them to participate in one battlefield. They would inevitably have to make a choice. Clearly, the Elves would not fight alongside the Dwarves. Thus, Azog easily completed his plan to divide the battlefield.

"Retreat! To Dale!" Bard's eyes blazed with fury as he watched the Orcs turn and charge towards Dale.

"Withdraw to Dale!" Seeing the allied forces being constantly compressed by the Orcs, Thranduil gave the order to retreat. The Elves and Humans, covered by the covering fire of the Elf Archers, rapidly withdrew towards Dale…

Only the fighting figures of the Dwarves remained before the gates of Erebor, their living space continuously shrinking.

"Thorin! Where is he? We need him?" Dain anxiously searched for his cousin on the battlefield.

"Aow!" A large saber pierced through, embedding itself deeply into the heart of Dain's mount. Dain was violently thrown to the ground.

"Hiss!" Getting up from the ground, Dain grabbed the spear aimed at him and plunged it into the chest of an Orc who had ambushed him from behind. He then swung his warhammer a few times, smashing the skulls of Orcs who passed by him.

"Roar!" A towering Ogre swung its battleaxe in a wide arc. A Dwarven Berserker, unable to dodge in time, was instantly split in two.

"Clang clang clang!" A grating sound of metal friction echoed. A Dwarven Warrior, speared through the gaps in his armor by several weapons simultaneously, weakly swung his battleaxe before collapsing…

"Thorin! Thorin—" Watching his kin die one after another, Dain frantically shouted the name of Thorin Oakenshield on the battlefield. Unfortunately, Thorin was already ensnared by the curse of dragon gold at this time…

Second update. After combining feedback from book friends, the plot of this book will focus on development, with the side quest of reclaiming Moria interspersed. Here, Ganxia once again requests recommendation votes. Please generously cast your recommendation votes (ω).