Lord of the Rings: Warriors

The next morning, Reynard led all the members of the knight order across the River Running in groups. 

With the help of Radir, they constructed a stronghold that, while not particularly beautiful, was undeniably sturdy. 

The entire outpost was built directly by Radir using earth magic, surrounded by a square stone wall measuring 100 meters long, 3 meters high, and 6 meters thick. 

Inside, they erected wooden shelters to serve as stables, and at the center stood a watchtower measuring 10 meters wide and 15 meters tall, used for vigilance and living quarters. 

At the very top, a beacon was built to signal to Riverguard across the river. 

The price of establishing this outpost was that old Radir drained his stock of mana potions, leaving him weak from overexertion.

"Caslow, you stay here. I'll take a team to scout along the riverbank," Reynard waved his hand at Caslow.

"Sure, don't engage unless necessary. If things get hairy, we can retreat to Riverguard and defend from there," Caslow advised, wary of Rynar getting lured too deeply by the orcs, especially since the knight order was at a disadvantage without their battle energy.

"Defending from the city…" Reynard's lips twitched at the thought of Riverguard's pitiful walls, making him feel even less confident.

"Get going and come back early!" Caslow urged, giving a swift kick to his steed's flank. The fine Shire warhorse shot off like an arrow.

"Boom!" The sound of pounding hooves echoed as Reynard led the Radiant Knights further away.

"Hope everything goes smoothly," Caslow sighed, then mounted his dragon saddle. 

With a powerful flap of its wings, the four-legged dragon took to the sky, heading deep into the Dark Forest.

…

"Hmm~ How's the scouting going?" Azog's small eyes fixated on a orc before him, his voice menacing.

"Master… we haven't discovered anything yet… that army seems to have appeared out of nowhere," the orc leader stammered.

"Roar!" 

Azog growled, the iron claw embedded in his left arm driving into the orc's neck. 

With a mighty lift, he hoisted the creature high before casually tossing it into the pack of wolves nearby, where dozens of them sprang into action, tearing it apart in mid-air.

"Useless, unworthy of living!" Azog sneered, the countless orcs beneath him bowing their heads in fear.

"Find them! I want to know where they came from!" His furious roar echoed through the abandoned ancient castle.

…

"My lord, we've reached Old Forest Road!" A knight reported to the halted Reynard. 

Returning here, Reynard felt nostalgic; those valiant Rapid Infantry had marched north with the king to participate in the Battle of the Lonely Mountain. 

Now… they were back, but those who had gone were left behind at the Lonely Mountain.

"Form teams of ten and spread out to scout!" Reynard surveyed the surroundings before casually instructing.

…

"Human knights…" The keen-eared orcs detected the Knights before they could spot them. They stealthily hid in the shadows of the trees, ready to pounce at any moment…

…

"Why does it feel so eerie?" One knight raised his lance warily, scanning the area.

"Be careful!"

"I feel something here… ah!" A knight screamed as a orc dropped from above, plunging its dagger into the knight's body. 

Due to the angle, the dagger pierced through the plate armor and lodged in the knight's shoulder.

"Roar!" The enraged knights swung their swords, fighting back fiercely.

"Orcs!" The cry echoed far and wide.

"Capture them! We need to get out of here!" A orc lieutenant waved to the approaching Orcs.

"Glory, mercy… humility!" The knights bolstered themselves with various states of resolve, aside from sacrifice.

"For the glory of Zaltarion! Charge!" Ten surrounded knights burst through the weak orc encirclement like a thunderbolt, galloping away.

"Rek! Hold on! Stay awake!" The galloping knights shielded the injured knight in the middle, racing out of the forest. 

The accompanying knights kept calling out to the wounded knight, urging him not to drift into unconsciousness.

"Lord Reynard! Orcs!" Upon spotting Reynard and the others by the riverbank, the knights quickly carried their teammate to them.

"Stay alert!" Reynard immediately focused on the injured knight.

"Divine Inspiration! Divine Healing!" A soft golden light enveloped the knight, and as he regained consciousness, he gritted his teeth and pulled the embedded dagger from his flesh.

"Hmm~" The pain contorted his face, and he gripped his weapon tightly to ease the agony.

"Alright, young man! You're very brave." As he passed by Reynard, the knight suddenly heard those words. 

The excessive blood loss was making him drowsy, but under the Divine Healing spell, his wounds began to heal and scab over rapidly…

"Clang!" 

Reynard casually hung his lance by the saddle and drew forth his beloved knight sword. Compared to the cumbersome lance, the 1.5-meter-long knight sword felt incredibly nimble.

"Slash!" 

Reynard called out, channeling all his battle energy into the knight sword. The balanced, holy battle energy formed a sword aura extending about 3 meters beyond the blade.

As the command left his lips, the golden sword aura swiftly swept through the advancing orcs, dissipating behind them.

The orcs that were grazed by the sword aura continued to charge forward with their upper bodies, but their lower halves were cleaved apart, leaving them writhing on the ground in agony, howling in pain. 

Reynard coldly observed as they rolled in their own entrails and blood.

He closely examined their totem and realized these orcs came from the same place as the first batch encountered at the foot of the Lonely Mountain—Dol Guldur!

"This is troublesome! The orcs are already creeping up right under our noses…" Reynard's eyes filled with anxiety. 

If it hadn't been for Legolas bringing news of the northern orcs' movements, Rynar might not have even thought of the southern orc army until they were at their doorstep.

"We can't fight on two fronts…" One knight murmured as he looked at the unfolding chaos.

"But it seems we'll have to!" Reynard sighed softly, gazing into the distance.

…

"So… Azog in the south can't hold back any longer?" Rynar looked surprised as he regarded Reynard's report inside the warm tent.

"We're in big trouble…" Old Radir, weakened, played with the griffin egg he had brought.

"Yeah, this trouble is anything but ordinary. If they attack, we'll be the first to face them. 

Dale and Erebor can offer us little help, as they need to be on guard against northern orcs crossing the Lonely Mountain to strike at them. 

The only ones who can get involved are the elves… but what can you expect from them?" Rynar analyzed.

"Wow! So it turns out we have no useful allies!" Caslow rolled his eyes.

"Instead of hoping for reinforcements from them, we should consider the army of Ironfoot Dain," Radir raised an eyebrow.

"Your Majesty! There's a situation across the river!" A Battanian archer suddenly burst in.

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