Battle of Five Armies (2)

"Retreat!" Thranduil shouted in fury as he watched his people die at the hands of the Orcs.

A vast amount of wood-element battle aura gathered around him, and a crescent of azure light rose behind him...

"Whoosh!" With a wave of his hand, Thranduil flung the crescent outward. As if alive, it circled the battlefield, and every Orc within fifty meters of Thranduil was sliced in half.

"Damn! An Elf Huntsman? The highest-ranked ranger?" Even Roland and the others watching from the hillside noticed that unusually magnificent crescent.

"Moon Hunt! A Battle Technique unique to The Huntsman. That crescent automatically attacks marked enemies within a fifty-meter radius of the caster," Caslo explained after one glance.

"The Woodland Realm has more strength than I expected. It isn't as pathetic as I thought." Roland was somewhat surprised.

Thanks to their long lifespans, nearly all Elves could become Professional Soldiers. They had ample time and experience to hone their magic and Battle Techniques. Thranduil leading nearly five thousand Elf Professional Soldiers truly surprised Roland, though the Elves' pitiful population and fertility...

"Roar!" Huge Ogres crawled out from the cave entrance with crude small catapults strapped to their backs. They slammed their arms into the ground to brace the catapults, while the Orcs standing on their shoulders and behind them worked together to load boulders into the machines.

"Boom!" Several boulders streaked across the sky and smashed heavily into River Valley City.

"Ah—" Several Elf Archers firing from a battlement were violently hurled away by a boulder.

"Ugh!" Flying rubble struck a human soldier running below on the head. He let out a pained cry before collapsing limply.

"Kill! For the Forest Goddess!" Seeing several covering Elf Archers surrounded by ugly Orcs, an Elf Ranger who had just withdrawn from the battlefield gritted his teeth and turned back to charge in...

"Hold them back!" Several human defenders armed with spears desperately used their weapons to stab the Orcs climbing over the ruined battlements back down.

"Roar!" A Giant Ogre with a stone battering ram mounted atop its head gave a roar, took several running strides, then lowered its head and smashed viciously into River Valley City's outermost wall.

"Crash!" As the Ogre fell, the long-neglected wall finally gave way under the strain and collapsed with a thunderous roar, leaving behind a gap more than ten meters wide.

"Abandon the walls! Prepare for street fighting!" Bard ordered his soldiers in anguish as he watched the wall fall.

"Bain! Take the women and children to the church!" Bard grabbed his panicked son.

"Ha!" Beneath Erebor, Dain Ironfoot led the remaining thousand or so Ironfoot Army soldiers in a desperate stand against the Orc assault.

"Thud, thud, thud!" The finely crafted Dwarven crossbows proved immensely effective, and a rain of bolts successfully suppressed the Orc advance.

"Roar!" Dwarven Berserkers who had entered a frenzy swung their weapons and swiftly slaughtered the Orcs that had rushed to their lines.

"Thorin! Where are you? We need you!" Dain Ironfoot cried out in anguish for the Dwarf king.

At that moment, Thorin stood before mountains of wealth, grinning as he caressed the treasures belonging to the King Under the Mountain... His followers, meanwhile, stood atop the high walls of Erebor and watched in agony as their kin were slaughtered by the Orcs...

"Whoosh!" Riding a Moon Elk, Thranduil charged forward without restraint, slashing and ramming every Orc crowding the stone bridge before the city gate to death.

"Ah..." The Moon Elk beneath him gave a pained cry, dropped to its knees, and threw Thranduil off. Only then did he notice several crude iron swords embedded in the Moon Elk's chest. This place had already been occupied by the Orcs! Thranduil was the last Elf to withdraw from the battlefield... The others had either retreated into the city or died outside...

He looked around. More than a dozen ordinary Orcs closed in on him.

"Heh." He sneered. Since when did even lowly ordinary Orcs dare approach him? Thranduil could not help but feel enraged.

"Slash!" The sharp Elven twin blades swept through the air in brilliant arcs, instantly disemboweling the dozen or so Orcs with their blade light.

"This..." With twin blades in hand, he darted swiftly through the city. Seeing Elf corpses strewn across the ground wherever he went, he could not help but vent his fury on every Orc he encountered.

At last, he came upon a group of Elves resisting tenaciously. Roaring, he wielded his weapons with speed, precision, and ruthlessness, severing the Orcs' necks.

"Gather our forces!" Thranduil ordered his Elves.

"Let's get out of this damned place!" Thranduil said furiously. He had originally come to claim the Elves' most beloved treasure—the sacred White Gemstone. Who could have expected that before they had even settled matters with the Dwarves, they would be brutally beaten by the Orcs? In such a short time, at least a thousand Elves had died in this cursed place.

"You can't do this! You can't leave!" Taulier flashed into view before Thranduil.

"My people have shed enough blood for this land!" Thranduil said coldly. He was unwilling to sacrifice his people's lives any longer for the Dwarves and humans.

"The Dwarves and humans still need us!" Taulier pleaded bitterly.

"Forget it. Let's withdraw..." Roland sighed and shook his head. It was too chaotic. Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Orcs had nearly beaten each other's brains out here. Roland backed down. He was unwilling to place his subordinates in danger. Joining the battle for wealth while risking the annihilation of his entire force would most likely only result in everyone being left behind.

"Why, my lord? Didn't we stay here to look for a chance to strike?" Reno raised his head in astonishment.

"Why retreat? They need us..." Reno pressed on.

Sure enough, Reno still loved stirring things up just as he had in history. Roland helplessly held his head. The reason Reno, known as the Dawn of the North, was recognized by everyone was precisely because of his chivalrous spirit: draw his sword for the weak! Draw his sword against the stronger! Fight for defenseless civilians! Fight for allied forces!

"We have almost no chance of winning. Even with Wyvern Knights, it is far from enough! Orc reinforcements from Gundabad are on the way. We have no ability to turn the tide!" Roland patiently explained to his subordinates.

No one spoke. Several hundred people stood in utter silence. Everyone understood the reasoning, but simply leaving like this was something none of them could bring themselves to do.

Roland looked at the silent crowd and frowned helplessly. Perhaps knowing the nature of all this had robbed him of the chance to empathize with them. Perhaps he would never understand the Lagrange Empire's Knights' pursuit of honor...

"I'm sorry, my king! Perhaps this will be the first and last time I defy your orders! A knight's honor does not allow us to abandon our allies!" Reno suddenly raised his head, gave Roland a standard knight's salute, and spoke.

"Do not forget that you are also a noble Paladin!" Reno bowed lightly.

"Warriors of Lagrange! The glory of our forebears still flows in our blood! The waters of the Swift River still nourish our homeland! Perhaps today we will fail! Perhaps we will die! But the Empire's will shall never perish! We! Join! The battle!" Reno mounted his horse, raised his dragon lance, and roared.

"For the glory of the Empire!"

"Long live Lagrange!"

"The Swift River watches over us!"

"Let my longbow point the way forward!"

At once, everyone was filled with fervor. The mark of Lagrange's glory had long been deeply carved into their souls by the system. For their homeland and honor, they were willing to become enemies of the world!

"Perhaps you are right. I am a knight too." Roland quietly gazed at every face before him, smiled faintly, and placed his hand on the hilt of the Dragon-slaying Sword.

After a long while, Roland raised his head and looked toward the distant battlefield of Erebor, where slaughter still raged.

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