Free Web NovelChapter 1121: Chapter 1101: Army
This night somehow went by as planned by Lann and Bard.
The nighttime temperature became even more piercing after the snowfall, sitting by the fire pit still made one’s body feel numb.
Fortunately, the underground shelter was cleared out in advance, allowing the elderly and children to go inside collectively and be taken care of uniformly, thus preventing anyone from freezing to death tonight.
The morning sun rose from the snow line along the Lonely Mountain, which finally brought a sigh of relief to everyone.
And over time, the news of Smaug’s death had spread like a bird with wings, reaching the ears of those with keen interest all around.
In the southwest of Smaug’s Wasteland, a massive black army was traversing the barren wasteland.
Shadows of clouds occasionally left gloomy and fleeting traces on the earth-toned wasteland.
But those gloomy shadows could not compare to this army.
They were like a monstrous creature crawling forward, poised to crush any enemy blocking their path.
This was a group of fully armed beastmen.
Each had different deformities, and their filthy bodies were covered with crude yet highly coverage armors.
These black steel armors seemed to be made by barely hammering and piecing together large iron plates, then draped over the beastmen.
There was no friction-resistant lining, no considerations for comfort.
The life of beastmen was worthless, not needing concern.
This was not only the perception of humans, elves, and dwarves but also the perception of the beastmen themselves.
They did not bring supply troops when marching, so what their food consisted of was quite obvious.
Unlike the beastmen who previously hunted dwarves and invaded Long Lake Town.
Back then, those beastmen mainly conducted their pursuits outdoors, hence their equipment was light and agile.
But now, this army was clearly using assault equipment.
Broadly covering crude armors, long spears, war hammers, battle axes...
Beneath crude black iron helmets, the beastmen showed mutated faces filled with a desire for blood and slaughter.
And in the army, there were not only beastmen but also large and fat ogres armed, their heavy steps causing almost a minor earthquake.
They were not only armed but even served as bases for war machines.
Catapults, siege hammers, flails... various engineering weapons impossible for ordinary people to use were brutally installed on their bodies.
No considerations for comfort, these siege machines were simply embedded into the ogres’ flesh and skin, using them as fixed bases.
Wargs carried knights, patrolling around the army’s perimeter with agility. The twitching at the corners of their mouths exposed sharp wolf teeth, while the low growls eager for action represented their evil desires no less than those of the beastmen.
However, these evil desires were restrained within the army, not daring to disperse or exceed boundaries.
People always believed that evil armies were very powerful, but that was a misconception.
Evil is a goal, not a guarantee of strength.
The strength of an army comes from order.
And the order of this beastmen army came from one beastman at the front of the marching formation.
A Pale Orc, riding a different white warg, with skin different from typical beastmen.
The beastmen’s bodies often show dirty yellow-black tones, whether from inherent complexion or deposition and staining from dirty living environments.
But this beastman’s skin was pale, with no twisted deformities on the head and body.
The robust body bore chaotic scars, showing his battles through life.
Only the left arm vanished from the elbow, replaced by a brutal double-pointed blade handle directly thrust into the stump, grown into the flesh and treated as his lost left hand.
He and his warg patrolled before the army or frowned while inspecting the heaving wasteland hills.
As long as he was present, all beastmen, ogres, and wargs had to abide by rules, follow orders.
Because he was Azog the Desecrator, the most reputable and strongest beastman leader in the northern Middle-earth Continent!
The Commander personally appointed by the Supreme Venerable!
All beastmen’s strategies for the northern Middle-earth Continent emanated from his hands.
It was he who, when the Lonely Mountain Dwarves were expelled from their home by the dragon and sought to return to their abandoned hometown of Moria, beheaded Sorlin’s grandfather, Thror.
"Woodland Elf! And a strange human!"
On a desolate wasteland, a sudden shout came from the flank of the beastmen army.
The black speech, when heard by humans, elves, and other races, was steeped in desecration and evil enough to send chills down their spines, but to the beastmen, it was just ordinary speech.
A warg rider who had once invaded Long Lake Town approached the leading Pale Orc Azog from the army’s flank.
And respectfully and cautiously halted behind him.
"Borg led us in chasing the dwarves when suddenly the Prince of the Woodland Kingdom and a female elf appeared, along with a rumored tall, strong human! They helped the dwarves escape into the Lonely Mountain!"
"Later... later Smaug also died."
The beastmen rider on the warg spoke while panting.
As he spoke, Azog raised his left hand, now replaced by a blade, and the dark orc army behind him stopped on command.
The sound of their steps halting was uniform, shaking the wilderness!
This level of control over an army was enough to leave the nobles of the Magic Middle Ages astounded.
It was completely unlike the usual chaotic masses of orcs.
"So... did Borg kill them? Did he cut off the elves’ heads?"
Borg was Azog’s son and the leader of the orcs that invaded Long Lake Town that night.
Azog spoke in a low voice. His inherently evil Black Speech, even to the orcs, carried a heavy sense of threat.
The white orc, riding a larger-than-normal warg, paced around the messenger cavalry, pointing his blade with his left hand and asking softly.
"They escaped!" The warg rider who came with the message was not only exhausted but also trembling with fear, whispering in defense. "Like cowards!"
"But cowards are alive, and they have returned with the Elf Army from the Woodland Kingdom!"
Azog’s low growl silenced any retort from the warg rider.
"Where did Borg go?" Azog seemed to realize that yelling at a subordinate wouldn’t help, so he asked a practical question.
"He went to Gondarba, saying he needed to mobilize more... ugh~"
Before the words were fully spoken, the cruel double-pointed blade stabbed into the warg rider’s back.
Azog lifted the warg rider, impaled by his chest, with one hand and tossed the body behind without looking.
A pack of wargs that had been licking their lips and drooling rushed forward to satisfy their hunger.
Even the warg the rider was originally mounted on joined in.
They were allied with the orcs, and what’s more, the rider’s misfortune rarely implicated the warg.
"Send orders to Gondarba. How many can Borg the fool mobilize without my orders?"
Azog ordered a warg rider who had just snatched a thigh.
Inherently vicious and dangerous creatures, even when speaking of his son, Azog treated him like an insignificant subordinate.
"Mobilize the Fell Bats! And hire goblins from the Goblin Kingdom in the Mist Mountains!"
The warg rider accepted the order, a piece of orc thigh still clutched in its warg’s mouth, immediately speeding westward.
"All gathered together, good..."
Azog again raised the blade in his left hand, and the footsteps of the orc army echoed once more.
"Humans! Elves! Dwarves! Let the Lonely Mountain bury them all! War! Onward!"
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Meanwhile, in River Valley City, as they had just begun boiling water to cook food, a ’small’ ripple was stirred.
The refugees from Long Lake Town, who had struggled through last night’s chill, finally found some vitality and energy with the hot water and food.
Then, as they stepped out from the houses arranged in River Valley City, they were stunned at first sight.
The steps and platforms of River Valley City were densely packed with a disciplined, unified army that seemed like one person.
The elves were uniformly clad in luxurious golden armor, long blades and quivers at their waists, and a long bow as well.
Under golden helmets were handsome faces, their long lives bringing unmatched discipline and camaraderie.
Everyone stood quietly, advancing lightly, so much so that the refugees resting in the city hadn’t noticed such a large-scale army entering.
The morning sunlight cast over the elves’ armor, reflecting a dazzling illusionary light.
The breeze fluttered their red cloaks behind them, a splash of red amidst the golden waves.
Bard still had remnants of weariness and drowsiness in the corners of his eyes, but he quickly stepped out upon hearing the commotion from Long Lake Town refugees.
Seeing the substantial elf army, he was calmer than the townsfolk, for he remembered the elves promising to come to the Lonely Mountain for negotiations with the dwarves, and to help the refugees.
"You’ve brought too many people, Thranduil. What do you intend to do?"
Bard pushed aside curious townsfolk who were relieved there was no danger and approached the conspicuous elk and tall figure, hearing these words upon reaching.
Passing through the crowd, Bard saw Lann scratching his head by Thranduil’s elk mount and asking.
"I just want to resolve this matter quickly."
Thranduil nodded towards Bard, who had just arrived, while responding to the Demon Hunter’s inquiry.
The Elf King and the Demon Hunter standing together projected such a remarkable aura that others naturally felt compelled to keep some distance.
"I told you, the situation is chaotic now. I must retrieve our national treasure and quickly return home."
Thranduil’s expression and tone were calm, giving an impression of extreme arrogance at first glance.
But Lann and Bard understood that this was simply Thranduil’s usual demeanor.
"The dwarves are stubborn; I only hope my army can bring them to reason and return the Starlight Gemstone."
He said this, gesturing toward his orderly army.
"Since it’s meant to intimidate, the grander the spectacle, the better."
