The torrential rain descended.
Standing atop the city walls, the Prince felt an immense weight in his heart. Beneath the dark night sky, he could see tens of thousands of Orcs clad in heavy steel armor, carrying spears and blades as they marched toward the fortress he occupied. Though the fortress walls were sturdy enough to withstand any attack, he still felt no reassurance whatsoever.
"My friend."
At that moment, another man walked over to the Prince's side.
"You seem rather uneasy."
"Indeed."
Hearing Eomer's question, the Prince nodded and tightened his grip around the hilt of the sword at his waist.
"To be honest, I don't know whether we can achieve final victory in this war. But no matter what, we will never surrender."
As he spoke, the Prince looked toward the walls. There, the Elven army stood in neat formation. They had arrived at Helm's Deep before sunset. It had to be said that this was an enormous boost to the Rohan forces defending Helm's Deep. They had long since stopped hoping for aid from elsewhere. Gondor was too busy saving itself, the Elves had withdrawn from the world, and the Dwarves had troubles of their own to deal with.
Everyone was too busy looking after their own doorstep to care about anyone else's roof.
Under such circumstances, the Elves had actually been willing to honor the ancient alliance and send an army to fight alongside them against this evil Orc horde. It truly allowed them to breathe a sigh of relief.
But it was still far from enough.
"What did that gentleman say?"
"He said he needed to think about it."
"Is that so..."
Hearing the Prince's reply, Eomer sighed and patted him on the shoulder.
"I know what you're thinking. If that gentleman were willing to