The Orc army from Moria had set out ahead of schedule. Gandalf, having escaped from Sauron's clutches, anxiously awaited the White Council's support, while the Dwarves headed for the Lonely Mountain early to begin their operation.
The music's tempo suddenly quickened.
Just like Li Wei's footsteps.
"Something's wrong. At this rate, the army will sweep in before the dragon is even killed."
The timeline had been thrown into chaos.
What had caused it?
So far, the only change should have been that he had brought Gandalf out early, sparing him from being imprisoned and tortured by Sauron.
This had exposed Sauron's plans ahead of time—perhaps the Dark Lord had sensed some sort of crisis and directly abandoned his lurking and preparations, choosing instead to launch a full-scale march on Erebor at once.
On the plains at the forest's edge, Li Wei stood atop a hill and looked out over the black mass of Orcs below. To be honest, there were far too many of them. It was likely not just the army from Moria; even the scattered Orcs from the nearby wilderness had been gathered together.
"That is..."
Li Wei narrowed his eyes and saw a small unit merge into the Orc army. One Orc, tall even by human standards, ran up to Azog and paused briefly before joining the army as well.
If he was not mistaken, that should be Azog's son: Bolg.
This army now had two commanders, one primary and one deputy.
Rubbing the sword in his hand, Li Wei felt an itch to fight. He suddenly recalled an ancient legend.
According to some tales, Orcrist's wielder had been Ecthelion, the Lord of the Fountains of Gondolin. During the battle in which Gondolin fell, he had used Orcrist to slit the throats of over a thousand Orcs,