Lord of the Rings: Warriors

"…" Rynar listened to Jessiava's recounting without giving much of a reaction. 

After all, the worldview of this land was vastly different from the Middle-earth Rynar had once known. 

At the very least, this world was devoid of gods. Everything Jessiava said needed verification.

"We had no army to support us… Our people fled that hellscape and sought refuge with humans… 

But who would have thought that, once we lost our glory, humans would betray us! 

They drove our people away and refused to help us! 

Without wealth, we couldn't sustain the expenses of alchemical research… We thought about revenge, but… 

Ha! Even a farmer wielding a pitchfork could easily kill a goblin sorcerer without alchemical tools!

Our dream of restoration remains out of reach… All we have left is the letter Isildur once promised us!" Jessiava tightened the ill-fitting clothes draped over his body.

"So, what do you want to do?" Rynar asked, already guessing the goblin's intentions. 

Surely, this kid wasn't planning to cross Rhovanion and go all the way to Gondor to demand the fulfillment of Isildur's ancient promise?

"Are you planning to go to Gondor and demand their king honor the promise?" Rynar's mouth twitched.

"Of course! Is there a problem with that?" Jessiava shot Rynar a side glance and cleared his throat.

"Our last emperor, before his death, cursed the royal family of Gondor for breaking their promise! 

Their bloodline would wither until it was extinguished entirely unless they fulfilled their vow! Any lord who ruled that land would suffer retribution!" Jessiava sneered, his smile dark and sinister.

"Oh, for the love of—!" Rynar was utterly dumbfounded. 

So this was why the royal family of Gondor had such a tragic history! 

He'd always wondered how such a powerful royal family could fail to produce a king for a thousand years, leaving a foreign steward to rule the kingdom. 

Turns out, it was all thanks to the goblins!

"Your identity isn't simple, is it?" Rynar probed. After all, secrets like these weren't something just anyone could know.

"What if I told you I'm the current Goblin King? Would you believe me?" Jessiava forced a bitter smile.

"I believe you," Rynar replied solemnly after glancing at Jessiava. 

Judging someone by appearances was the gravest mistake. 

A goblin who knew such hidden truths was either a king or a member of the goblin nobility. 

Normal goblins wouldn't have access to such classified information, some of which Rynar himself was hearing for the first time.

"This is the Goblin Key! It proves my identity!" Jessiava pulled out a massive key from who-knows-where. 

When he infused it with magic, it began to glow softly in warm orange hues. Magical patterns shimmered along its surface as the runes activated, accompanied by a faint mechanical sound.

"So, you're planning to head to Gondor now? Alone?" Rynar was utterly flabbergasted. This lone, impoverished Goblin King cut a comical figure.

"With your current situation, you couldn't even make it through Mirkwood, let alone head south along the Anduin River to reach Gondor," Rynar said, dousing Jessiava's optimism with a harsh dose of reality.

"Ugh…" Jessiava collapsed onto the ground, his eyes losing focus as despair clouded his vision.

"So, I suggest you gather some followers before heading south. The journey isn't exactly safe," Rynar advised kindly.

"All my followers sacrificed themselves to protect me…" Jessiava said despondently. He was now stuck, unable to move forward or retreat. 

The goblins' meager wealth and resources had been barely enough to get him this far. 

On his journey south, he had humbled himself, ingratiating with various merchant caravans.

But when crossing the Grey Mountains, they were ambushed by an orc army. 

The entire caravan was annihilated, and Jessiava's loyal followers gave their lives to protect their king. 

"… That's how it happened. A mistake with a teleportation spell landed me here. 

Originally, I'd dug a hole to hide from the predators that roam during the day, but a farmer dug me out with a hoe!" 

Jessiava laughed self-deprecatingly, admitting he had thoroughly embarrassed the goblin kings of past generations.

"This…" Rynar's face flushed red. 

Damn it, this mess seemed to be partly his fault too! He glanced over at Bardel and the centaurs of the Tupet Tribe, who, for once, weren't the only victims of his schemes.

"So, do you goblins have anything left?" Rynar's eyes gleamed as an idea formed in his mind. What kind of person was Rynar? 

The kind who'd take everything from someone, leaving only their kidneys if they were lucky.

Now, with this destitute Goblin King standing before him, how could Rynar resist such an opportunity? 

His empty coffers were in desperate need of contributions! Thorin might have been his first victim, but he wouldn't be the last!

At that moment, Rynar's metaphorical blade was already pointed at the hapless Goblin King.

"Huh?" Jessiava looked at Rynar with a puzzled expression. He couldn't believe anyone would still covet him when he was this impoverished.

"For this journey, the goblins have already spent their last copper coin!" Jessiava muttered indirectly, making it clear he was penniless.

"Ugh…" Rynar was momentarily at a loss for words.

"Wait, your alchemical data and knowledge should still be intact, right?" Dylan, who had been watching the spectacle from the sidelines, suddenly chimed in.

"Of course! It's the last glory of our ancestors!" Jessiava's eyes glimmered with tears. 

Though the goblins could no longer conduct alchemical experiments, the alchemical results their ancestors preserved were treasures. 

To others, it might seem like trash, but to Rynar's camp—where a wise alchemist was present—it was a goldmine!

"Your Majesty, consider obtaining some goblin alchemical knowledge," Dylan suggested telepathically to Rynar with his formidable mental abilities.

"Is it that valuable?" Rynar asked internally.

"It could support an entire empire's alchemical advancements. What do you think?" Dylan replied rhetorically.

"Damn it! We must have it!" Rynar's eyes turned bloodshot with greed.

"Goblins invented alchemy. They have countless technologies we need to learn!" Dylan declared. 

Though he had already reached the pinnacle of alchemical knowledge, learning was an endless pursuit, and there were countless mysteries he still yearned to unravel.

"I'll see what I can do!" Rynar replied with determination.

…

"You seem to be out of options, Jessiava! It looks like you need help, great Goblin King!" Rynar approached with the sly grin of a fox visiting a henhouse.

"I have no wealth…" Jessiava said with dimming eyes, fully aware he couldn't afford to hire mercenaries.

"No problem. Alchemical research results, formulas—those work too. 

If you're willing to pay in alchemical formulas, I can dispatch a heavy cavalry unit to escort you to Gondor," Rynar proposed. 

After all, he couldn't spare much manpower, and using Battanian archers as cavalry would be wasteful. 

The Holy Radiance Paladin Corps was off-limits, leaving him only with his heavy cavalry.

"Deal! If you're willing to escort me to Gondor, I will pay with alchemical knowledge and formulas!" Jessiava agreed eagerly.

.

.

.

Guys, do leave some power stones and reviews.

🤞patreon.com/MythosWriter🤞

If you guys enjoy this story, you can support me on Patreon and get access to Advance Chapters, it really helps me to work on new chapters.