Battle of Five Armies (2)

"Retreat!" Thranduil roared in anger as he witnessed his people being slaughtered by Orcs.

Vast wood-elemental battle qi gathered around him, and a crescent moon of azure light rose behind his back...

"Clang!" Thranduil flung the crescent moon away with a wave of his hand. The moon, as if possessing a spirit, circled the battlefield, slicing in half every Orc within a fifty-meter radius centered on Thranduil.

"Holy crap! An Elf Ranger? A max-level Ranger?" Even Roland and his companions, who were observing from the hillside, noticed the exceptionally magnificent crescent moon.

"Moon Hunt! A unique combat skill of Rangers. That crescent moon automatically attacks marked enemies within fifty meters of the caster," Caslo stated after a quick glance.

"The Woodland Realm's foundation is quite solid; they're not as weak as I thought," Roland remarked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

Thanks to the Elves' long lifespans, nearly all of them could become professionals. They possessed ample time and experience to hone their magic and combat skills. Roland was genuinely surprised that Thranduil led nearly five thousand Elven professionals, but the Elves' lamentable population and fertility rates...

"Roar!" A massive Ogre, carrying a crude, small catapult on its back, emerged from the cave entrance. They slammed their arms forcefully onto the ground, stabilizing the catapult. Orcs standing on their shoulders and behind them worked together to load a massive boulder into the catapult.

"Boom!" Several giant boulders streaked through the sky, crashing heavily towards River Valley City.

"Ah~" Several Elf Archers on a parapet, who were firing their arrows, were violently thrown off by the impact of the boulders.

"Ugh!" Splintered debris struck the head of a human soldier running below. The soldier let out a pained cry and collapsed limply.

"Kill! For the Forest Goddess!" An Elf Ranger, seeing several of the Elves providing cover being surrounded by ugly Orcs, gritted his teeth and, after having just retreated from the battlefield, turned and charged back in...

"Hold the line!" Several human guards, wielding spears, desperately used them to push back the Orcs climbing over the dilapidated ramparts.

"Roar!" A colossal Ogre, with a stone battering ram on its head, let out a roar and, after a few charging steps, lowered its head and slammed into the outermost wall of River Valley City.

"Crash!" Accompanied by the Ogre's fall, the already dilapidated wall could no longer bear the strain and collapsed with a roar, leaving a gap over ten meters wide.

"Abandon the walls! Prepare for street fighting!" Bard said with pain to his soldiers as he saw the wall breached.

"Bain! Take the women and children to the church!" Bard pulled his panicked son towards him.

"Ha!" Below the city of Erebor, Dáin Ironfoot was leading the remaining thousand-plus Ironfoot Army in a desperate resistance against the Orc onslaught.

"Thump thump thump!" The exquisite Dwarven hand crossbows proved highly effective, and a volley of arrows successfully suppressed the Orcish advance.

"Roar!" Dwarven Berserkers, having entered a state of frenzy, swung their weapons and swiftly cut down the Orcs that charged their lines.

"Thorin! Where are you? We need you!" Dáin Ironfoot desperately called out the Dwarf King's name.

At this moment, Thorin stood before a mountain of treasure, gleefully caressing the wealth belonging to the King Under the Mountain... His followers stood on the high walls of Erebor, watching in agony as their kin were massacred by the Orcs...

"Clang!" Thranduil, riding a Moon Deer, charged through, killing all the Orcs blocking the stone bridge leading to the city gate with a combination of hacking and ramming.

"Roar..." The Moon Deer beneath him let out a pained cry and collapsed to its knees, throwing Thranduil off. It was then that Thranduil realized several crude iron swords were lodged in the Moon Deer's chest. This area had already been occupied by Orcs! Thranduil was the last Elf to retreat from the battlefield... The other Elves had either retreated into the city or died outside...

He looked around. A dozen common Orcs had surrounded him.

"Heh~" He sneered. Since when did lowly common Orcs dare to approach him? Thranduil couldn't help but feel enraged.

"Swish!" The sharp Elven twin blades carved beautiful arcs through the air, and over a dozen Orcs were immediately disemboweled by the blade's aura.

"This..." He weaved through the city rapidly with his twin blades. Facing the corpses of his kin scattered everywhere, he couldn't help but vent his fury on the Orcs he encountered.

Finally, he encountered a squad of Elves putting up a fierce resistance. He roared, wielding his weapons to quickly, precisely, and mercilessly sever the Orcs' necks.

"Gather our troops!" Thranduil ordered his Elves.

"Let us leave this accursed place!" Thranduil said furiously. He had originally come to retrieve the Elves' most beloved treasure – the sacred White Gem. He never expected to be so brutally beaten by the Orcs before even settling things with the Dwarves. In just this short time, at least a thousand Elves had died in this damned place.

"You can't do this! You can't leave!" Taulier suddenly appeared before Thranduil.

"My people have already shed enough blood for this land!" Thranduil said coldly. He was unwilling to sacrifice his kin any further for the Dwarves and Humans.

"The Dwarves and Humans still need us!" Taulier pleaded desperately.

"Forget it, let's retreat..." Roland sighed and shook his head. It was too chaotic. Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Orcs were practically tearing each other apart here. Roland backed down; he was unwilling to put his subordinates in danger. Risking annihilation for wealth to join a free-for-all was unlikely to end well, with everyone most likely being wiped out.

"Why? Sir? Aren't we supposed to stay here and look for an opportunity to strike?" Reno looked up in astonishment.

"Why retreat? They need us..." Reno persisted.

As expected, Reno was still as troublesome as in history. Roland helplessly held his forehead. Reno, known as the Dawn of the North, was recognized by everyone for his chivalrous conduct: drawing his sword for the weak! Drawing his sword against the stronger! Fighting for unarmed civilians! Fighting for allies!

"We have almost no chance of winning, and even with our Wyvern Knights, it's far from enough! Orc reinforcements from Gundabad are on their way, and we don't have the ability to turn the tide!" Roland patiently explained to his subordinates.

No one spoke. Hundreds of people fell silent. Everyone understood the logic, but to simply leave like this was something they couldn't bring themselves to do.

Roland looked at the silent crowd, his brow furrowed in helplessness. Perhaps because he knew the true nature of everything, Roland had lost the opportunity to empathize with them. He might never understand the Lagrange Empire's knights' pursuit of glory...

"I apologize! My King! This may be the first and last time I disobey your command! The honor of a knight does not allow us to abandon our allies!" Reno suddenly looked up and gave Roland a standard knight's salute before speaking.

"Don't forget that you are also a noble Paladin!" Reno bowed slightly.

"Soldiers of Lagrange! The glory of our ancestors still flows in our blood! The waters of the Swift River still nourish our homeland! Perhaps we will fail today! Perhaps we will die! But the will of the Empire will never perish! We! Will! Participate!" Reno mounted his horse, raised his Dragon Spear, and roared.

"For the glory of the Empire!"

"Long live Lagrange!"

"The Swift River protects us all!"

"My longbow will show us the way forward!"

Instantly, everyone's spirits soared. The mark of Lagrange's glory had long been deeply etched into their souls by the system. For their homes and for glory, they were willing to defy the world!

"Perhaps you are right. I am also a Knight." Roland quietly gazed at each face before him, a gentle smile on his lips as he placed his hand on the hilt of the Dragon-slaying Sword.

After a long moment, Roland looked up towards the distant battlefield of the Lonely Mountain, where the fighting raged.

"Then, we join the battle! For the glory of the Knights! For the glory of Lagrange!" Roland drew the Dragon-slaying Sword and mounted his horse.

Thank you to all the readers for your recommendation tickets. (ω)