Light in the Night

"But only you can change all this!" Roland pleaded bitterly.

"We have already suffered devastating losses. Three thousand years of recuperation have merely restored our ability to defend ourselves. Forgive me, but I cannot join the war..." Eowyn remained adamant in his refusal.

"Your Highness Eowyn, Star Dragons are not invincible. Barrier Dragons must have their own weaknesses, and the Star Barrier cannot withstand attacks that are too powerful." Roland spread his hands helplessly. Since the soft approach had failed, he could only get tough.

"As far as I know, Sauron has won the allegiance of a pack of Demon Wyverns, and he also has Hell Siege Ram Gelongde under his command. Do you think this barrier can stop them? I admit that you are a qualified ruler, and that you do not want your people caught in the flames of war. But you have nowhere to retreat to either. Sooner or later, Sauron will set his sights on you—unless you think you can withstand his armies alone." Roland had no choice but to drop this bombshell.

Seeing Eowyn fall silent, Roland pressed on. "When only you remain, you will face the Orc armies alone. Singri will be destroyed by war! Your people will wail and weep amid the flames! Is that what you want to see?"

"Insolence!" Peter Gro slammed the table and rose to his feet. Faced with Roland's aggressive words, he felt that his King had been insulted.

"What? Was I wrong, Dragon Knight?" Roland said calmly.

"You!" Peter Gro was instantly rendered speechless.

"Forget it! Reno, let's go. I hope King Eowyn will be able to hold off those Orcs alone after all of us have been wiped out." Roland stood, gave a slight bow, then called Reno and turned to leave.

"Wait! Tell me your plan." Eowyn's cool voice came from behind Roland.

Hearing that, Roland, who had already turned away, smiled faintly. He slowly turned his head back. "Sorry, but we have no plan other than meeting them in battle, unless you think we can force our way through Fortress of Gundabad or Dol Guldur."

"Has the situation truly become this dire?" In Eowyn's eyes, the kingdoms outside should at least have been able to gather an army of nearly twenty thousand.

"The truth is, Erebor, the Woodland Realm, the Lagrange Kingdom, Dale, Luoshengnier City, and the Iron Hills combined can only field around eight thousand troops. And that is with every soldier we have." Roland shrugged helplessly as he looked at the stunned Star Elves.

"Our chances of victory are slim..." Peter Gro suddenly said.

"Yes, but if we do nothing, then we have no chance at all!" Roland walked before him and stared into his eyes.

"You are right!" Eowyn rubbed his aching eyes and acknowledged Roland's words. He had never imagined that, after three thousand years, the kingdoms outside had become so weak.

"May I ask how many elf soldiers the Singri Kingdom currently has..." Roland seemed to think of something, and his expression turned strange.

After Eowyn waved at Peter Gro to indicate that he could tell them, Peter Gro awkwardly said, "Around three thousand elf soldiers..."

"..." Roland's eye twitched. They were supposed to be a hidden faction. How could they be this pathetic? Even in the game, they had at least ten thousand or so elf soldiers. Why was reality so shabby?

"But our army is entirely composed of third-tier Professional Soldiers!" Peter Gro said proudly.

"Holy crap!" Roland's eyes widened. An army of three thousand third-tier Professional Soldiers... that was practically an Orc harvester!

"What kinds of Professional Soldiers are they?" Roland asked eagerly.

"One thousand intermediate rangers, one thousand sharpshooters, and one thousand Elite Swordsmen!" Eowyn listed them as if reciting treasured possessions.

Damn it! Not a single proper frontliner! Roland thought. Archers went without saying—they were definitely ranged damage dealers. Elf Rangers also focused on ranged attacks, and their melee capabilities were weak by comparison. But elf swordsmen were simply ridiculous!

What did swordsmen look like in your imagination? Frontline tank-like Professional Soldiers in heavy armor, like Dorwinian Heavy Swordsmen. And elven swordsmen? Their frail bodies aside, they could at least be expected to serve as a frontline. But the Star Elves' swordsmen were truly outrageous! They did not carry swords—they carried freaking Moon Blades!

Do you know what Moon Blades were? They were huge crescent-shaped blades, with handles set in their centers! The crucial point was that they were thrown to cut people down! Put simply, they were giant boomerangs... What kind of defense could anyone expect from them?

"As expected! The frontline will ultimately have to rely on humans and dwarves..." Roland slapped his forehead, utterly speechless.

The Star Elves had their reasons for doing this. Their population was already small, and they simply could not bear the losses of frontal positional warfare. Naturally, their troop choices leaned toward ranged and mid-range units suited to guerrilla and kiting tactics.

Still, Roland wanted to weakly ask the Star Elves one thing: was it really polite to call those throwers carrying giant boomerangs swordsmen?

"So... you cannot fight independently?" Roland looked strangely at Eowyn and Peter Gro. This entire force of mid- and long-range troops could unleash terrifying attacks upon the Orcs in an instant, but once the enemy closed in and everyone got tangled together... that would be a different story. And unfortunately, Orcs had numbers.

"Uh, actually, we can deploy Dragon Knights!" Eowyn said, blushing.

"I understand..." Roland sighed toward the heavens.

He had thought the ratio of melee to ranged units among the Woodland Elves was exaggerated enough. He had not expected the Star Elves to take it even further...

"We need to leave enough people behind to protect the barrier, so even if we join the battle, we can only send two thousand troops!" Eowyn said after a moment of silence. After all, the flames of war had not yet reached them, and they still had to defend their crystal.

"I understand." Roland nodded. He knew Singri's deepest secret: a Star Well! Like the elves who worshipped the Moon Goddess and the Nature Goddess, the Star Elves had originally worshipped the Nature Goddess. Back then, the Star Well had still been a Sun Well. This source of magic had granted the elves strength and longevity. Elves deprived of a Magic Well would gradually perish. When the Singri elves converted to worship the Star Goddess, the original Sun Well was blessed and transformed into a Star Well. Thus, the first—and only—Star Well in the world was born.

"When will they come?" Beneath Eowyn's calm exterior lurked intense brutality. He was nothing like his earlier indifferent self. Clearly, he hated Sauron and his minions to the bone.

"Probably next spring! They will not let us sow and farm in peace." Roland said quietly.

"Mm..." Eowyn sank into thought.

"Peter! Gather all archers and rangers! Bring sufficient supplies! We will head to Long Lake first and wait for those bastards!" A cold gleam flashed in Eowyn's eyes. Unwilling to miss this chance, he decided to lead his people out in advance and await the Orcs' arrival. His scimitar was already eager to drink Orc blood.

"Tell the people that after I leave, all of Singri will be sealed off. If the seal is lifted and I am not there... then I will already have returned to the embrace of the stars!" Eowyn smiled, rose from his throne, pushed open the doors of the great hall, and pulled a bloodstained horn from his robes.

"Father, I am walking your path once more..." Crystal tears glimmered in Eowyn's eyes.

"Since night has fallen, then we shall become the only light within it!"

The sound of the horn rang through every corner of Singri.