Organizing Cannon Fodder to Their Deaths

Royal Capital Council Hall!

Most of the major generals of Gondor and Rohan were gathered here. On the Gondor side, Aragorn was the leader, with Aragorn and Boromir as his Faramir, while on the Rohan side, King Théoden remained, with Eomer as his second-in-command.

Aragorn has not yet ascended the throne; he is stubborn and refuses to become king until Mordor is destroyed.

In addition, the Fellowship of the Ring was also invited to participate in this meeting, which focused on strategic deployments in Mordor.

Gandalf was the most suitable person to chair the meeting, given his status and position.

Russell found a corner to sit in, with the Dunedain Warrior Herubal standing behind him, serving tea and water.

"Brother, would you like some water or a cigarette? I have the best tobacco in the Shire, I'll light one for you right away!"

Russell nodded and accepted the pipe from Herubal, as it was customary in Middle-earth, where all races except the elves carried a pipe, including Aragorn and Gandalf.

"Brother, you must have had a hard meal just now. How about... I give you a shoulder massage?"

Herubal, a burly man nearly 2 meters tall, crouched behind Russell with a fawning smile. Even when bent over, he was still a head shorter than Russell when he sat down. It must have been quite a sight for him.

"Hmm, put in a little more effort, you're pretty good at this."

"No, it's all thanks to my elder brother's excellent guidance!"

Herubal was very happy. When he called him "Big Brother," Russell neither denied nor agreed. But it was a signal that Russell had tacitly accepted him as his younger brother.

If you can save your life and gain a powerful patron who can transform into a dragon and unleash a massive flood, what does shame matter?

Herubal felt no shame, but rather pride, even a little smug. He felt the envious and jealous gazes of many generals, from Rohan and Gondor.

The competition was fierce. Herubal cursed the sycophants in his heart and gave himself a thumbs up. Luckily he was quick, otherwise someone else would have been massaging Russell's shoulders.

Gandalf rolled his eyes. The mature Maiar were strict with themselves and looked down on people who indulged in pleasure. For example, when he became a White Robe, did he publicize it all over the continent?

No!

"Cough cough!"

Gandalf coughed lightly, signaling the official start of the meeting. He shook his white robe and waited for everyone's gaze to linger on him for three seconds before slowly speaking.

"Gentlemen, we have won the Battle of Pelennor Fields, but this is not the final victory. The real test is just beginning!"

Upon hearing Gandalf's speech, whispers arose in the council chamber. Russell watched quietly from the side, thinking, "That old geezer is at it again, trying to fool people."

In Russell's eyes, Gandalf was a conman, but in Gandalf's own view, he was guiding the human race to overthrow Sauron's evil rule, thereby completing a transformation and rising to become the ruler of Middle-earth.

"Please be quiet, everyone!"

The task given by his superiors was extremely difficult. Gandalf's face was solemn as he continued, "The forces of darkness are very powerful. Sauron suffered a defeat and will certainly not let it go. I can sense that behind the walls of Mordor, the enemy is regrouping its army."

Mordor is vast; Gondor and Rohan, individually, cannot compare to it in terms of either population or land area. The Orcs Mordor have always outnumbered those of Rohan and Gondor, a fact well known to all the generals present.

Therefore, upon hearing Gandalf's words, they were all filled with apprehension. Years of war had depleted their national strength, and both countries needed to recuperate.

If they had a choice, they really wouldn't want to go to war!

"My friends, Gondor, Rohan, and Mordor mountain. Sauron, in pursuit of his ambition to conquer Middle-earth, will send troops against us relentlessly until we are utterly annihilated. The elves are far away, the dwarves are indifferent to war, and we are isolated and helpless, left to rely on ourselves!"

After Gandalf finished speaking, he sat down. The topic had been set up, and it was time to let others join the discussion.

"Ignore them. We once held off Mordor's army outside the Anduin River, and we will do so again."

"That's right. As long as the two countries work together, with the help of the strong city walls, we can completely keep Sauron's minions out of our doorstep."

"No, we no longer have walls. The Orcs destroyed them before they crossed the river."

"We can rebuild it. As long as Gondor exists, we can build as many walls as we need!"

"The speed of construction can never outpace the speed of destruction."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

"Attack, attack is the best defense. Even the strongest walls cannot hold every time. If we rely on defense, we will die a terrible death."

"What a joke! Mordor surrounded by mountains on three sides, and its garrison outnumbers us several times over. How can we attack? What can we use to attack?"

"But holding the city walls to the death will only lead to certain death!"

"We can hold on, just like before."

"Things are different now. The great battle is about to begin, and Mordor's army will no longer be just testing the waters as before."

"..."

The generals of the two countries were arguing fiercely, roughly divided into two camps: one side insisted on a defensive strategy, while the other believed that they should press their advantage and expand their gains.

Both sides had very valid reasons, and neither could convince the other, leading to a heated argument.

"Quiet down, all of you! This is the royal council hall. Don't embarrass yourselves in front of our ancestors." Théoden slammed his hand on the table. If he didn't stop them, these rough men would start fighting.

"Aragorn, what is your opinion?"

Théoden frowned. Defending was certain to fail, but offense offered no chance of victory either. He hesitated, wanting to hear what Aragorn had to say.

The generals promptly shut their mouths; they were subjects, and no matter how much they shouted, the final decision rested with the two kings.

"Defending the city walls will undoubtedly lead to defeat, and launching an attack on Mordor has a very slim chance of success, but..." Aragorn pondered for a moment and said, "We can destroy the One Ring. Once Sauron is dead, given the Orcs' undisciplined nature, they will only split into tribes fighting amongst themselves, and Mordor will no longer be a threat."

The One Ring!

Upon hearing this word, the breathing in the council hall became heavy, and the generals' gazes lingered on the members of the Fellowship of the Ring, their faces revealing greed.

Clang!

Two sword clashes rang out simultaneously. Aragorn and Théoden drew their longswords, placed them on the table, and intimidated everyone, preventing them from making any rash moves.

Humans are the greediest of the three races. Gandalf stood up with a hint of disappointment and continued to preside over the meeting. He consulted with the two kings and dismissed the generals who were not of firm will, leaving only a few people and the members of the Fellowship of the Ring who knew that Frodo was a Ringbearer.

"The Eye of Sauron is constantly watching Mount Doom. To destroy the One Ring, its gaze must be diverted elsewhere..."

Seeing that no one spoke up, Russell took the initiative to play the villain, his meaning clear: it was time to assemble a cannon fodder army to die.