More than two months passed in a flash. The year 2951 of the Third Age was exceptionally peaceful. Every power seemed to have tucked itself away. Not only had Mordor made no move whatsoever, but the Eastern Yi Chariot People had not even let out so much as a fart. Even Dol Guldur, usually the most restless of them all, had settled down. Across the entire Northern Territory, aside from Apophis Breo and Ismir under Roland's command, every other force had fallen into dead silence.
Roland was a clever man. He knew the course of future history and was well versed in military strategy. Did he know how to make a punch hurt the most? Of course—pull back the fist before throwing it out! Roland had no doubt that Sauron was gathering his strength for a crushing blow, but as for the others... Roland could not agree with them. Other than the few kingdoms of the Northern Territory, most powers were merely struggling to survive. Roland did not expect Gondor to make any progress over the next decade or so. He only hoped those old fossils in Gondor could draw Sauron's attention and keep him from turning his spearhead toward Roland. That alone would be a blessing!
"Your Majesty, there's some fresh news that requires your decision!" Adolf Heinrich said, waving a magical envelope in his hand.
"What is it?" Roland asked as he accepted the letter.
"The Heir of the Regent's heir from Gondor has come to our Northern Territory!" Adolf Heinrich rubbed his brow. He had no idea what this meant. Unable to judge the intentions of the southern kingdom's heir, he could only leave the decision to Roland.
"Well, well! Now this is a proper dish! The unbreakable king of the White City?" Roland burst out laughing