The Tarnished in LOTR with Elden Ring

At Lake-town's watchtower, Igon grimaced as he used his dragonbone greatbow to fend off the Nazgûl's relentless attacks.

The watchtower's space was quite cramped, and moreover, Lake-town's watchtower had been built merely as a symbolic structure, never expected to serve much practical purpose. This made Igon's maneuvering room even more limited than usual.

The Nazgûl attacking Igon could ignore terrain entirely and assault from all directions, preventing Igon from switching to melee weapons. He could only continuously use his dragonbone bow to parry the enemy's thrusting blade.

Igon's back slammed heavily against the wooden barrier again, the Nazgûl's sword already at his nose. He raised the dragonbone bow horizontally to block, the blade striking the hard dragonbone and sparking brilliant flames that lit up his grim face.

"Damn it... is this cursed thing never-ending?!"

Igon cursed angrily, kicking the Nazgûl out of the tower again. But just like before, it floated in midair, swayed its black-armored body, and raised its sword to attack once more with mechanical persistence.

Bernahl's desperate roar also came at this time. "Igon, are you dead yet?! If not, get over here and help!"

Bernahl's battlefield wasn't faring well either. Although Legolas and Tauriel had drawn the attention of two Nazgûl, other wraiths had reinforced from elsewhere in Lake-town.

Even Bernahl, facing such numerous Nazgûl simultaneously, found it somewhat overwhelming when the Serpent-Hunter staff couldn't replenish stamina from these undead beings.

Moreover, after these Nazgûl appeared, besides the agile giant spiders spraying webs everywhere, an Orc army had also joined the attack on Lake-town.

However, the Storm Knights could tell this Orc army was different from the one they had previously trapped and killed in Lake-town. These Orcs actually formed proper battle formations, something Azog's Orc soldiers could never achieve.

So the Storm Knights led their respective soldiers, defending against the combined assault of giant spiders and the organized Orc army despite being outnumbered, but temporarily couldn't spare hands to help Bernahl.

Aside from the Storm Knights, ordinary Storm soldiers would be affected by the Nazgûl's supernatural shrieks, and going to help Bernahl would only hinder him.

That's why Bernahl called out to Igon in the watchtower, urging him to come help quickly.

Hearing Bernahl's shout, Igon dodged another Nazgûl thrust and cursed back. "Stop rushing me! This damned thing is troublesome! Can't kill it, and it floats around everywhere like a persistent ghost."

Just as Igon responded to Bernahl, the Nazgûl before him nimbly shifted in the cramped watchtower and slashed down again with deadly precision.

But this time Igon didn't choose to dodge or block with his dragonbone bow. Instead, he suddenly lunged forward, using the bow to catch the sword's crossguard, the protruding hand guard below the hilt.

Igon took the opportunity to kick hard at the Nazgûl's knee hollow, making it kneel. Then he stomped firmly on its helmet, pressing it to the tower floor while grinning savagely. "Finally caught you, you slippery wraith!"

His other hand flashed red, but the Nazgûl directly released its sword-holding hand, its sharp gauntlet transforming into spikes poised to pierce Igon's thigh.

"ROAR!"

But just as the Nazgûl's gauntlet was only half an inch away, a massive dragon head suddenly materialized, bursting through the tower roof.

The dragon's roar exploded thunderously, air distorting into visible ripples in the sonic boom. Windows in nearby houses shattered in response, fragments falling like ice crystals in the moonlight.

The Nazgûl's iron armor bore the brunt of the closest dragon roar. The breastplate forged by Sauron cracked inch by inch, black smoke gushing from the fissures before being torn into wisps by the sound waves, as if countless transparent teeth were gnawing at its spiritual form.

For the first time, indistinct human speech came from beneath the Nazgûl's face guard, hoarse as rusted gears grinding. "Im...pos...sible...!"

It tried to break free and escape from Igon, but was horrified to discover that even its invisible spirit, which should have returned to its master after losing armor protection, was also harmed by that dragon roar. Pain it hadn't felt for ages made it scream and wail.

A second dragon roar followed immediately. The Nazgûl's invisible body became faintly visible in the sound waves, a nearly withered, skeletal human form.

But now, this form was being torn apart bit by bit by the dragon's roar.

Each wisp that peeled away from the Nazgûl's invisible body elicited glass-scraping shrieks from the wraith itself.

When Igon's Dragon Communion incantation ended, the Nazgûl's body vanished completely. Its armor collapsed like a sand tower, with iron boots, knee guards, and breastplate successively crashing to the ground. Then a silver-white ring slowly rolled from the armor remains.

Igon bent down to pick up the silver ring, which was set with a large, ornate gem. Within the gem was a faint miniature Eye pattern that seemed to watch him.

Igon closed his hand, carefully storing the ring in his chest. He planned to take this trophy to Tarnes for examination, as the Eye pattern in the gem made him deeply uncomfortable.

He then kicked the Nazgûl's remaining armor, mocking in a hoarse voice. "So even you damned things fear dragon roars."

"Igon, are you done yet!"

Just as Igon stood up, breathing heavily, Bernahl's urgent voice came again.

Igon quickly shouted toward Bernahl's direction. "Done! I finished off one Nazgûl! Use incantations, Bernahl! These damned things can be harmed by incantations!!"

But to Igon's surprise, instead of grateful words from Bernahl, he got an even louder tirade of curses.

"Damn it, I figured that out minutes ago!! I want you to come help me! Not tell me how to eliminate them!! Do I look like I have time to cast incantations! Quick, grab your bow and shoot them!"

Only then did Igon look carefully at the battlefield. Bernahl was fighting one against five, or rather six.

Because Tauriel hadn't successfully disrupted the dagger-wielding Nazgûl; instead, she was being beaten quite badly while occasionally joining Bernahl's battlefield to cause him trouble when she recovered.

At this moment, Bernahl's back heel hadn't yet touched the ground, and six different weapons were already attacking from different angles.

The shrieking of Nazgûl weapons cutting through air almost merged into one sound, like six venomous serpents simultaneously striking at Bernahl's throat, heart, and joints.

"It's getting a bit crowded here!"

Bernahl grinned savagely as he leaned back. The instant a sword edge grazed past his nose, his Serpent-Hunter staff struck the ground heavily, red light exploding and sending the two nearest Nazgûl staggering.

He took the opportunity to spin out from the gap in the six-weapon encirclement. The spot where he'd been standing was immediately smashed and cracked by a heavy hammer.

A fourth attack descended vertically from overhead. Bernahl rolled aside, and his barely stable landing spot was again reduced to wood chips that scattered with dust.

Before the dust settled, the fifth and sixth attacks crossed toward Bernahl's neck, seemingly trapping him in a death scenario.

But Bernahl remained unmoved, actually moving toward the left Nazgûl's attack. He dodged the blade and rammed hard into its embrace with his heavy shoulder armor, simultaneously kicking the right Nazgûl away with his right foot, resolving the crisis.

He used the recoil from kicking that Nazgûl to flip out of the other wraiths' encirclement, but five Nazgûl shadows leaped like persistent bone-clinging maggots, their weapon-woven death net once again closing on Bernahl.

Lake-town's floating wooden floor exploded under Bernahl's footsteps. Like an out-of-control rhinoceros, he crashed through a wooden wall behind him. Amid flying splinters, he swept horizontally with his staff, deflecting two pursuing blade edges.

Tauriel's anxious voice came. "Watch out!"

Before she finished speaking, the dagger-wielding Nazgûl had already burst into the wooden house from another side, its sharp dagger aiming to pierce Bernahl's ribs as he flew backward into the house.

However, Bernahl spun along the blade in an impossible mid-air maneuver, dodging this Nazgûl's surprise attack.

The black dagger punched a large hole in the wooden wall, spider-web cracks appearing around it.

Before this Nazgûl could extract its hand from the wall, the Serpent-Hunter staff had already followed Bernahl's rotation to smash its shoulder armor.

Outside the wooden house, three Nazgûl who hadn't yet entered had iron armor gleaming with cold, wet light.

One Nazgûl raised its iron boot; the wooden board groaned like death beneath its foot, while inside the house Bernahl's roars and the sound of his staff striking companion armor were close at hand.

"Whoosh!"

The instant the bowstring vibrated, a copper arrow thick as a wrist shot through the air, piercing through the rearmost Nazgûl's breastplate like a hungry dragon pouncing on food.

The arrow's momentum continued, skewering the two front Nazgûl like candied fruit and pinning them to a half-rotten floating wooden post outside the house.

Three sets of menacing iron armor convulsed on the floating wooden floor. These three Nazgûl couldn't break free for the moment, and taking this opportunity, Igon added several more arrows, thoroughly pinning the armor of these three Nazgûl to the floating wooden floor.

At this time, Tauriel also appeared, breathing heavily with blood stains on her beautiful face, emerging from where the dagger Nazgûl had entered. She wielded twin silver blades to help Bernahl parry another Nazgûl's black sword attack.

With four Nazgûl suddenly reducing the attack pressure, Bernahl looked at the three remaining wraiths he only needed to face inside the house and showed a dangerous, savage grin.

Meanwhile, just as Freyja's Redmane Knights and Fili and Kili's war-goat riders had finished dealing with those six troublesome Olog-hai trolls, before the cheers in Dale had faded, countless black dots exploded from inside the Lonely Mountain.

Initially, those black dots looked like spilled ink, but in an instant they condensed into rolling dark clouds, a sky-blotting swarm of bats.

These bats had wingspans equal to a Dwarf's height, chattering and baring fangs as they flew toward the humans and Dwarves on Dale's ground.

Ori's axe crashed onto the battlements with a clang. He staggered back several steps, pupils reflecting the sky-covering bat swarm, voice trembling. "So... so many bats? How did Azog hide these evil creatures too?"

The aged, kindly Balin firmly grasped his trembling shoulder armor, white beard fluttering in the wind as he comforted. "Stand firm, Ori. Don't let fear occupy your heart. We still have Thorin, and Tarnes with his allies, even Gandalf."

While comforting Ori, Balin's peripheral vision also glanced toward the other side of the wall.

Thorin stood there leaning on his Icerind Hatchet, wordlessly looking up at the sky like a silent statue.

Inside Dale, Lake-town residents who had recently relocated also looked at the approaching bat swarm with despair, the sound of bat wings beating growing ever closer.

However, just as these humans were about to be overwhelmed by fear and begin panicked flight, Bard's roar overpowered the sound of beating bat wings.

"Everyone who can shoot, take up your bows and light your arrows!"

People hearing Bard's words froze. Bard directly took the bow from his back, lit an arrow at a nearby brazier, and shot toward the bat swarm that was beginning to lower its flight altitude and draw nearer.

The burning arrow cut through the low sky. The bat swarm instinctively scattered to both sides to avoid it, but the fire arrow still pierced a bat's wing. The evil creature spiraled down to crash on the cold ground, scattered dust briefly dispersing the panic.

Then Bard turned to scan the crowd, eyes blazing as he shouted. "See that?! They fear fire! Just like we fear empty bellies! These beasts can block the sun, but they can't block the courage our ancestors built scraping food from the ice lake!"

After a brief commotion, the crowd began to act. Fishermen who couldn't shoot arrows soaked cloth in tar and wrapped arrow shafts, while those who had at least once drawn a bowstring and could barely use a bow shot symbolic arrows of resistance at the bat swarm under Bard's command.

Freyja, who had just returned to Dale and climbed the wall, heard Bard's shout and looked over with surprise.

She said to Jerren beside her in an admiring tone. "Looks like this world has more outstanding people than I imagined. Those Dwarf brothers too, and this small human leader as well."

Jerren replied without changing expression. "What? Are you thinking of recruiting them all into the Redmane Legion?"

Freyja nodded openly and cheerfully. "Of course! The Redmane Legion loves such warriors. General Radahn would definitely appreciate these people too."

Fili and Kili, who had climbed the wall using the same stairs as Freyja, saw her and Jerren still had the mood to chat. Kili said anxiously. "This isn't time for small talk. What do we do about these bat swarms? We can't fight aerial bats while also battling Azog's elite forces."

Freyja looked at Kili, paused for a moment before understanding. "Oh, that's our fault for not explaining clearly. Don't worry, brave Dwarf warrior who knows beast incantations. With General Radahn here, no enemy can fly in his battlefield."

"Huh?" Kili looked completely bewildered.

Radahn, who was fighting Smaug, had long noticed the overwhelming bat swarm. Only when the bats flew to Dale's outskirts did he begin dodging Smaug's dragon breath while making a grasping gesture toward the bat swarm's direction.

Purple light burst from Radahn's palm, visible gravity ripples sweeping over the bat swarm like a giant net.

The sky-covering bat swarm suddenly froze, like mosquitoes nailed in amber, even their wing-beating sounds stopping abruptly.

The next moment, countless bats fell straight to the ground like iron blocks, the sound of breaking wing bones erupting continuously as fangs pierced the earth, raising clouds of dust.