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

Chapter 260 The Bridge
"Look! The bridge!" Bahrain exclaimed excitedly, pointing to the direction on his right.

Roland looked closely and saw a solitary stone bridge spanning the Moria Abyss, connecting the two sides. Although he couldn't see it very clearly, Roland could clearly sense that the thing was probably not close to him.

“We need to capture Hall 4 before we can hold off the bridge… There’s no mining cableway now, this is our only way out!” Balin explained to Roland, as if noticing his surprise.

"Don't you have any other way?" Roland felt a chill run down his spine. Who knew if that thing was reliable or not? All Roland knew was that 60 years later, there was a poor wizard named "Gan Doufu" who had become a fallen old man...

“We’re all heavily armored! I don’t want to die from a fall rather than from an orc’s sword!” Roland said, shaking Balin’s shoulder, each word distinct. Whether sold by weight or by ounce, his group was definitely heavier than the Balrog, and he seriously doubted whether it could bear this “heavy responsibility.”

“Oh no! Your Highness Roland! You need to trust our dwarven creations! Our craftsmanship and quality are absolutely top-notch!” Balin patted his chest and assured him.

"No matter how good the craftsmanship and quality are, it can't be smoothed out by not maintaining it for a thousand years..." Roland said with a dark face. If he didn't know that this thing would eventually collapse, he would have almost believed it.

“We can reinforce it temporarily…” Bahrain shrugged indifferently, his demeanor a true embodiment of Russian aviation! If the dwarves of Middle-earth hadn’t lacked aircraft technology, Roland had no doubt that even if a dwarf lost an engine, it would still fly.

"..." Roland shivered and remained silent.

……

"It doesn't look like a long way! How come it's taken so long?" Roland looked at the allied forces moving like ants on the winding stone steps. He stood on a platform with his hands in his pockets and looked helplessly at Bahrain.

"Hahaha, this is the capital of the dwarves! We built it for countless years... Ten main halls connect countless buildings. The dwarves used to live and work here in peace and prosperity. We gathered here! We mined here! We smelted here! Until later... the demons underground were awakened. We were no match for them, and the dwarves finally withdrew from this place... During the Battle of Azanubicha, I witnessed the fall of the king and the decline of the race... We didn't even enter the gates of Moria!" Balin said with emotion, tears streaming down his face.

“That’s good! You’ve successfully returned home… If you really can’t fight them, we can destroy the passage here! Separate half of Moria!” Roland said.

“This is the worst-case scenario…” Bahrain sighed.

"We'll deal with that Balrog! No! It should be the dragon! You'll have to deal with the rest of the rotten fish and shrimp!" Roland nodded to Balin, as he still needed to lead his troops back to help with the autumn harvest! Having suffered from famine before, Roland ordered the people to reclaim wasteland vigorously and even implemented a military settlement system. It was obvious that Swiftstream City was short-handed to manage those crops.

“No problem, leave those small fry to us!” Balin nodded gratefully. The orcs and goblin dwarves here could be dealt with if they fought to the death, but the fire demon was beyond the dwarves’ current capabilities. The dwarves had lost the protection of the sixth-tier, and even ordinary sixth-tier beings couldn’t do anything to an adult fire demon.

"I wonder what the situation is like in Swiftstream City. Have they encountered any difficulties? How is the land reclamation going? How is the house repair going..." Tired from walking, Roland casually found a platform for a rest stop and sat down cross-legged.

"Don't worry, Your Highness, the Grand Duke and Lord Yunfeng will take good care of the kingdom. Besides, with Renault leading the Lulong Fortress, there won't be any major problems!" Caslo reassured him.

"I hope so... Bahrain, did you always travel like this? How long would it take?" Roland sighed and rubbed his forehead, looking at the still long line of people.

“There used to be wooden bridges connecting them… here! Here and here!” Bahrain glanced at Roland and pointed to several places.

"Uh..." Roland fell silent. It wasn't that there were no other paths, but rather that they had all disappeared over time... Roland looked up again at the massive stone steps with a drop of at least a hundred meters and gasped. It was truly hard to imagine how the dwarves had carved these things out, one pickaxe at a time; the time it took was definitely beyond what a single generation could accomplish. "Let's go, King Roland, don't stay here as target practice! The view is too open! This city isn't safe yet; forgive me for not being able to show you its most magnificent glory right now!" Balin shook his head and tightened the leather strap on his helmet.

"Hmm!" Roland nodded. This wasn't the first time he'd been ambushed like this; there were always unscrupulous people trying to harm him! This caused Roland immense suffering.

As for why it's so quiet right now, it's entirely thanks to the Lordaeron rangers who cleared the way ahead. They had identified dozens of potential danger spots, and whether it was the hidden orcs or the goblins secretly shooting arrows, they had thrown them off the cliff.

"Pass it on! We're almost there. Everyone, gather in that square first, but don't alert the scum in the Fourth Hall!" Balin whispered to the messenger, pointing to a very obvious, wide square in the distance.

"understand!"

"What? That's the Fourth Hall?" Roland asked curiously.

“No, no, no! Of course not! That’s the square of the Fourth Hall!” Balin gave Roland a deep look and said meaningfully.

"..." Roland looked at the vast square and suddenly understood Bahrain's description of the size of the Fourth Hall. It was more than just big!

"Could we get lost?" Roland suddenly had a jolt of fear. Holy crap! In such a huge place, it's questionable whether the allied forces of a thousand men could even make a splash!

"Wait! Your Highness, I feel something's wrong! Have you noticed? The temperature seems to have risen quite a bit!" Caslo's face was already covered in a fine layer of sweat.

"Hahaha! It's normal for some places underground to be hot because there's magma!" Bahrain laughed, taking it for granted.

“I’m afraid it’s not because of the lava…” Omsk frowned, seemingly lost in thought.

"I smell the sour stench of sulfur... I don't like the feeling here!" the Smurf said unhappily, perched on Roland's shoulder.

“Perhaps…we are getting closer to the Balrog’s lair!” Caslo’s eyes were filled with solemnity.

"Your Highness, please don't go over there yet! I'll go check! If anything happens, destroy the passage immediately! Don't worry about me!" Omsk leaped several times and moved dozens of meters away. A sixth-tier hero can already fly in the air for a period of time using his battle aura. Even if the stone steps were cut off, Omsk could still return.

"Be careful! Halt the advance!" Balin and Roland ordered all soldiers to stop. Everyone involved with the Balrog became cautious. If the allied forces were to launch a fierce attack, the lords and generals might be fine, but the ordinary soldiers would definitely suffer heavy casualties.

Gazing into the distance, Caslo gripped the dragon flute tightly, while the Smurf bared his teeth, his dragon eyes gleaming with surging dragon power.

(End of this chapter)