The Lord of the Rings: Lords of Middle-earth.

Chapter 238 Falling Moon
"Keep it up! We've already crossed halfway! Just a little further and we'll be on the other side of the Misty Mountains!" Balin encouraged the soldiers, who were drenched in sweat.

The early summer evening breeze was very cool. As evening approached, the dwarves, who loved life, had already set up their camp and lit countless bonfires for a joyful dinner. Meanwhile, the Lagrang army was still laboriously driving wooden stakes into the ground to build breastworks.

"Would you like some, Your Majesty?" Balin asked Roland with a smile, holding up the wine jug in his hand.

"No, we can't drink alcohol while we're on the march. I need to set an example!" Roland shook his head.

"That's such a shame, you won't get to enjoy it..." Bahrain shook his head regretfully.

"I hope tonight is a peaceful night. I don't want to play whack-a-mole with these damn goblins!" Roland gritted his teeth. He had to admit, the goblins, a specialty of the Misty Mountains, were really something else! No matter how he killed them, they were impossible to eradicate completely. He had been harassed by these damn goblins countless times these past few nights. Although their attacks were far weaker than those of trolls, to be honest, if he ignored them, they wouldn't be able to do anything to these heavily armored warriors for the time being. But they were so noisy! They chattered and screamed, each one of them letting out eerie screams in the darkness. Roland had been sporting dark circles under his eyes for the past few days.

"Goblins?" Balin's expression turned strange. He recalled Roland's "friendly side" towards goblins! Dismembering them into pieces, giving them a gentle touch, or tearing them apart with a flurry of blades were all trivial matters. What impressed Balin the most was King Roland, with a warm smile on his face, stabbing a goblin who had disturbed his sleep with a dagger hundreds of times in the firelight. Every stab avoided vital organs. The goblin howled all night before dying from blood loss. From then on, everyone knew that Roland had a terrible temper when he woke up, to the point that he was prone to killing people in his dreams.

"I hope no fools will disturb your sleep tonight!" Balin said decisively. He hoped no one would come again. Normally, the dwarves could fall asleep thanks to their thick skin, but with the goblins being tortured by Roland and their wails, everyone could only listen to that unfortunate guy "singing" in the dead of night with red eyes.

"Your Highness, roasted rabbit!" Caslo approached Roland and handed him a large, plump roasted rabbit. The rich fat dripped from its limbs onto the ground, and the strong aroma of spices made Balin's mouth water.

"The bunny is so cute, how can you eat it?" Roland stared in astonishment at the roasted rabbit in his hand, thinking that it must have been a cute little creature when it was alive.

"Mmm! It smells so good! Come on, add some more chili, it's a bit bland!" Roland couldn't escape the "it smells so good" law after all. I have to say, this rabbit is even cuter after it died, it warms the heart and stomach!

Looking at Roland, who was all talk and no action, Balin couldn't help but feel a chill. What had turned the originally kind-hearted King Roland into this? Was it the distortion of human nature or the decline of morality? Or perhaps the trauma of war?

"Awoo~" Suddenly, a long wolf howl came from afar, which made the faces of the leaders who were talking change drastically.

“Bahrain! Did you hear that?” Roland asked anxiously.

"By Turin, I will remember their voices even in death!" Balin said through gritted teeth.

“Dragon God! Is that the battle howl of the Gombak dire wolf?” Caslo’s heart tightened.

"The wolf riders are the vanguard of the orcs. Could it be that an orc army has emerged from Gombada Fortress? What are they doing in the Misty Mountains? Are they attacking Rivendell?" Omske asked, puzzled.

“A map!” Roland hurriedly ordered.

Roland's expression changed as he unfolded the map. There was no area in the entire Misty Mountains worth attacking by the orcs, except for Rivendell! However, whether Sauron himself could break through that barrier was still uncertain. Since they weren't after Rivendell, then… they must be after them? "Good heavens, have we been discovered?! Do the orcs already know about our plan to attack Moria?" Roland exclaimed. Throughout the journey, relying on his superior numbers, Roland hadn't bothered to conceal their movements. Subconsciously, he believed the decimated orcs were powerless to stop them; after all, no one intercepted Balin's expeditionary force in the original story. But the butterfly effect seemed to have occurred; the orcs, even at the cost of their wounds, were determined to tear them apart!
"Oh no! The dragon flag!" Caslo seemed to remember something and looked up. Sure enough, the Lagrange dragon flag with its golden tassels and exquisite patterns was fluttering in the wind.

"Damn it! We forgot to change the flag!" Omske smacked his head in frustration.

"What happened?" Roland had a bad feeling.

"Your Highness, please forgive us... We forgot to change your royal banner. They must have recognized it when they came!" Omske said painfully with his eyes closed.

"Pfft!" Roland almost spat out a mouthful of blood. How outdated was this? Had the people of the Middle Kingdom not studied Sun Tzu's Art of War? Had they not read the Thirty-Six Stratagems? Did they really dare to send troops just because they saw a flag? In an instant, Roland's mind flashed with images of entrapment and the uses of his royal flag.

"Bearded by heaven! You actually traveled all the way under the royal banner?" Bahrain was immediately terrified. It thought the problem was with itself, but it turned out the problem lay with its ally!
"It must have been the survivors of the Battle of Lonely Mountain who relayed the message back. After all, they have their own civilization, so it's not surprising that they would do something like spying!" Roland shook his head and sighed. There was nothing they could do now but face the situation.

"Looks like we've been targeted since we set off!" Roland chuckled self-deprecatingly. The orcs' timing was perfect! If they had arrived late, they could have called for help from Rivendell or plunged in headfirst. If they had arrived early, they could have crossed the Anduin River upstream and escaped. But now, stuck in the middle of nowhere, they have no choice but to fight.

"Orcs are nothing to be afraid of! We've killed so many already! Tonight we'll slaughter another wave!" Roland said, his eyes filled with murderous intent and a fierce glint in them.

“No, no, no, I’m more afraid of the Ringwraiths than the Orcs…” Omsk expressed his concerns.

"..." Roland.

"We're in trouble... Your Highness, look, the moon is setting!" Caslo pointed to the sky, where the bright moon was gradually disappearing into the clouds, and the bright moonlight was becoming increasingly dim.

“The moon is setting!” Roland frowned.

"Bahrain! Have your men merge camps with mine! Increase patrols! Wear armor during rest! Also! Light a campfire every hundred meters, one hundred paces from the camp!" Roland said.

"I will follow your command!" Bahrain replied decisively.

"Hurry up, lads! Tonight's going to be something special! We might have to fight orcs to the death!" Roland roared, cursing his bad luck inwardly. How many nights had he not slept well? It was either trolls or goblins! Now even orcs were joining the fray? Even a clay figure has some spirit! Roland, his eyelids twitching, just wanted to kill someone to vent his anger.

"Let me see if you still remember that legion that charged upstream at the foot of Lonely Mountain!" Roland said through gritted teeth, tears streaming down his face as he looked up again. He recalled once more those figures bravely forging ahead, and that blue torrent...

The torrent... never ceases!
(End of this chapter)