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

Chapter 262 Traces of Heroism

"Just as I expected!" Omske said knowingly as he entered the fourth hall, as if his suspicions had been confirmed.

"Oh! Turin!" Balin knelt down in despair. Countless pillars in the fourth hall were leaning and collapsed, and molten stone crystals from the fire demon's intense heat were scattered everywhere. What surprised Roland most was the large amount of molten iron that had cooled and formed lumps of iron scattered across the floor, with countless iron filings flying in all directions. Broken weapons, melted armor, and shattered bones were strewn throughout the hall…

“Beard above! This is our ancestor!” Ouli’s eyes were red.

“Children of Turin! What have you been through?” Floyd knelt on the ground, supporting himself with an axe, tears streaming down his face.

"My God! This is a graveyard!" Roland was horrified. He was deeply shocked by the scene before him. This must be one of the most tragic battlefields for the dwarves! Countless elite dwarven warriors fought here, using their lives to stop the Balrog's advance and give their families time to escape.

"This is the dwarf's dragon-slaying armor!" Caslo sighed as he dug a tattered suit of armor out of the ruins. Even after the passage of time, it still looked rugged and sturdy.

"It's still usable! The Dragon Slayer Armor, capable of blocking dragon flames, is damaged like this... Dragon God! What kind of fire demon are we facing?" Omske stared at the armor, torn apart at the waist, the remains of its former owner's upper body still embedded within! Only now, they had turned to bones... Looking at the clearly melted and broken crack, one could only imagine how terrifying this fire demon was!
"He must have been caught in the Flame Demon's fiery whip and melted in half!" Roland couldn't help but shudder as he looked at the gruesome wound.

"This is Hall Four! We need to find Hall Three (Massabur Hall) and then go to the bridge! Once we cross the bridge, we'll find the Royal Palace!" Bahrain wiped away his tears and said painfully, trying to rouse himself.

“Massabur Hall? Wasn’t that where the Fellowship of the Ring encountered the Balrog?” Roland’s heart stirred, and he suddenly remembered.

"Be on guard! The Balrog might be hiding nearby!" Roland was extremely cautious. He had seen that the dwarves' dragon-slaying armor had been melted by the Balrog, and he didn't know if his own armor could withstand a full set of the Balrog's armor. In any case, he didn't plan to try.

"This is terrible! Your Highness! Lord Balin! You should come and see this! By the Dragon God!" Caslo's terrified voice rang out; Roland had almost never heard Caslo's voice like that before.

"What happened?" Roland peeked out from behind several piles of rubble.

"Oh no! Oh God! Turin! Have pity on your descendants! Why did this happen!" Balin rushed forward, examined the situation carefully, and then burst into tears.

"Who is this?" Roland looked curiously at the remains kneeling on one knee on the ruins of several stone pillars. Time seemed to have miraculously preserved his body.

"No! His body has been petrified!" Roland's pupils contracted, and he immediately began to examine it carefully.

“This is the remains of a dwarven overlord! He seems to have used some kind of life-sacrificing secret technique, burning away his life force after the technique ended, turning himself into a stone statue!” Caslo said with great respect.

"Wait? This is a dwarf? I feel like he's taller than me even when he's squatting. This must be a giant!" Roland asked, puzzled.

"It's a dwarf! He activated his Bloodlust Berserk! His blood is boiling! He might even have the Body of a Mountain Mover! He became like this after a series of combat techniques! Didn't you notice his armor has been torn apart?" Omske pointed to some fragments around him. "Who is he?" Roland couldn't help but wonder about the identity of this former dwarven overlord! He was, after all, the pinnacle of the sixth tier of warriors, how could he die here in such an unwilling way? It seems he fought with his life on the line. Just look at the shattered and chipped battle axe in his hand, you can tell his opponent was that Balrog. Unfortunately, it seems he failed in the end. He couldn't stop the Balrog and instead sacrificed himself here.

“Nine! Son of Turin VI! Nein I!” Omske, well-versed in history, quickly retrieved the man’s identity from his memory.

"So it was him!" Roland nodded immediately as if he understood. At that moment, he suddenly realized why Balin was crying so sadly. This was their ancestor! Their former king!
More and more dwarves arrived here, and they all saw the tall figure in the ruins and his petrified face. More and more dwarves shed tears of sorrow. They wept bitterly, but their eyes were filled with anger and murderous intent. An unnamed will gathered in the hearts of all the dwarves.

"Military spirit? Or military might?" Omske keenly sensed the difference in these soldiers; their demeanor had undergone a fundamental change.

"If they survive this battle, the dwarves will have another legion comparable to the Ironfoot Army!" Caslo said, standing beside Omske with deep feeling. Little did he know, the future renowned Skullcrusher Legion was being born today!
“This is a great king, and a qualified king! Those human kingdoms in the south should take a good look and learn from him!” Thinking of the rulers of Gondor and Rohan, Roland couldn’t help but feel his veins throbbing.

"What a pity... he couldn't stop that fire demon!" Roland said regretfully.

Gazing at the weeping dwarf army, everyone in the Kingdom of Lagrang fell silent. They understood the dwarves' sorrow and could feel their anger.

"I apologize, King Roland, I lost my composure. Please give us some time; we need to collect the bodies of our warriors! Now that we're home, we can't let them continue lying here!" Balin whispered, his eyes red, and left without waiting for Roland to speak.

“Let everyone rest for a bit. If you can help, you can also help the dwarves. They are all feeling terrible right now…” Roland looked at the figure kneeling beneath the petrified corpse of Lord Nien I and felt that Balin had aged a lot in an instant, as if all his energy had been drained away.

"There's a book here?" Roland sat down and realized something was wrong. He fumbled around for a bit and found the culprit that had cushioned his position.

“Caslo? Come on! Take a look!” Roland glanced at it a few times, then realized he couldn’t read the dwarven script and gave up. He decided to wait for a professional.

"This is a diary?" Caslo took the dusty book in surprise. Most of the parchment inside was torn and tattered from the erosion of time, and only a few words could still be read.

“We have awakened…the…demon! It…flames…and wields…long…! The king has…! Today…the son…sacrificed! The war horn has sounded again!…We will face…the most…battle…!” Caslo translated haltingly.

"The handwriting is too blurry, I can't read it! Ah, this..." Caslo casually turned a page, never expecting that the entire parchment would suddenly shatter and scatter all over the ground.

"Alright, I think I understand what happened!" Roland said in a deep voice, recalling parts of the plot.

(End of this chapter)