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

Chapter 429 The Torn Defense Line

"Roar!" The roaring dwarven berserkers transformed into the wildest "beasts," their swung battle axes unstoppable. These royal guards pressed forward resolutely, and any orcs who tried to stop them lay at their feet.

"Boom!" With his perception greatly enhanced, the dwarven berserker cleaved through the incoming heavy crossbow bolts with a single axe strike. Amidst the flying wood chips, the not-so-tall but exceptionally robust figure rushed out like a gust of wind!
"Whoosh!" With the retraction and extension of the battle axe, at least a dozen orcs were cut in half at the waist!

"Charge them in! Crush them!" Thorin was exasperated by the sight of the orcish machines that had already begun to move. Only by engaging in a fierce battle could the orcish war machines be effectively contained! After all, the dwarves didn't have many war machines; they were barely enough. The long journey had left them unable to carry too many war machines, since not everyone had a system space like Roland's.

"Stop them! You swine! Pick up your weapons! Stop them!" The orc officers and lords whipped their soldiers, driving them to fight the dwarves to the death.

"The situation is settled!" Thorin breathed a sigh of relief.

The dwarven army was rapidly advancing from a distance. They quickly cut down any orcs who tried to block their path and then engaged the orc army in a fierce melee. The orcs behind them were immediately thrown into disarray. Because the dwarves were already short in stature, they disappeared into the orc ranks in an instant, and could only be vaguely seen falling to the ground, emitting piercing howls...

"Charge! Stop them! You damned bastards!" The orc lords continued to tirelessly drive ordinary orcs into the meat grinder of the front lines. These cannon fodder orcs, wielding spears that were no different from wooden clubs and machetes that were no different from iron blades, were the lowest rank among orcs, or rather, they weren't even human. Not only did the enemy never give them a second glance, but their own people also despised them. After all, they were known as the "dark-skinned cannon fodder," with no redeeming qualities other than being plentiful and filling...

"Have those bastards gone mad?" Thorin spat, gripped his Beastbite Sword tightly, and desperately led his men to hold off the orcs' counterattack.

The orc lords and officers no longer cared about anything else, grabbing heavy crossbows and unleashing a barrage of fire at the densest area! Most of the kills were of their own kind, but some dwarves were still struck and killed! The terrifying power of the heavy crossbows was enough to pin a dwarf's iron can to the ground, and all the dwarves' eyes turned red as they stared at the corpses of the dwarf warriors whose arms hung limply at their sides.

"This won't do! Thorin!" Dvalin roared. A stalemate with no defensible position and the orcs locked in a protracted battle was not the scene they wanted to see.

"Order our right flank to tear through the orcs' lines! We'll retreat to Moria!" Thorin roared through gritted teeth, glancing at the Moria caves not far away.

"Let the Dragonhawk Knights act according to the situation! Let's go!" Thorin deflected the orc's slash with his sword, and with a backhand swing, a head flew into the air. Under the dwarf king's valiant charge, the orc's defenses began to waver once again.

However, how could the orcs, who possessed an overwhelming numerical advantage, give up so easily? Goblin soldiers from the Misty Mountains joined the battle. Those weak, pale, and ferocious goblin soldiers were like nails being hammered into the ground by the dwarves... Yes, hammered into the ground... Those goblins, whose combat strength was probably no more than 5, were like toads lying on the feet of people—they didn't bite, but they were disgusting.

"Bang!" With a powerful slam of a dwarf warrior, the path ahead opened up! The last orc who tried to stop him fell! They had ripped through the entire right flank of the orcs.

"Go in! Retreat to Moria!" Thorin, watching the goblins and orcs surging like a tide in the distance from the Misty Mountains, could only bitterly order his troops to retreat. In the end, he chose to join forces with Balin...

……

"How is the situation?" Thorin was the last to retreat into the east gate of Moria. His arm was numb and his hand was split open from the barrage of crossbow bolts.

“At least three hundred of our brothers will never get up again, and there are thousands more injured…” Dvalin walked over and patted Thorin on the shoulder, his voice tinged with sadness. “My brother, you’ll get better!” Thorin couldn’t bear to see Dvalin blaming himself, so he comforted him.

"Where are the Moria garrison? Where is Balin?" Thorin looked around but couldn't find Balin or any Moria dwarves. After all, the standard armor of the Irubor dwarves and the standard armor of the Moria dwarves were quite easy to distinguish.

"Thorin! We're here!" After searching for a long time, Orioin finally appeared before Thorin in a secluded corner with less than a hundred Moria soldiers.

"..." Thorin was stunned. He stared at the dwarven soldier whose armor was covered in blood and human tissue, his body trembling with excitement. His fists were clenched so tightly they cracked. He knew that these were the only soldiers left in Moria... The rest were probably already asleep in the deep underground caves.

“What about Bahrain…” Sorin said, trembling, terrified of hearing the news he least wanted to hear.

“He was badly injured, so we left him with the women and children to watch over him!” Oli shook his head.

"Turin is watching over us!" Thorin gasped for breath, thank goodness! That brave and wise old man was still alive! Thorin almost wept with joy!

"By the way, how did you get in? Did you drive the orcs away?" Ouyin asked Thorin.

"Those bastards have gone mad! They attacked us and their own people together! We had no choice but to break through their defenses and retreat here." Thorin blushed, after all, running away was a bit shameful, but staying there to trade lives with the orc goblins was even more brain-dead.

"Very well, get some rest! With you all joining us, Moria is now impregnable!" Oli understood the situation perfectly. After all, if the orcs could breach the underground city of Moria, which was guarded by nearly three thousand dwarven soldiers, the defenders would be ready to commit suicide. Unless a Balrog suddenly appeared, how could those weaklings of the orcs possibly take Moria? The dwarves watched with amusement.

"Hmm, is Simon alright?" Thorin asked.

“West Gate? We left five soldiers there to guard it. No one can get in without the secret code!” Oliouyin exchanged a glance with Thorin and said.

“No, no, no! I mean, can it still be opened?” Thorin asked.

"Sorin...you want to retreat?" Olli and Ouyin asked slowly after a moment of silence.

"No! The reinforcements from the Blue Mountains will come in from there!" Thorin shook his head and said decisively. Retreat? As the most ambitious and capable king of the mountains in all these years, King Thorin intended to beat the orcs who dared to provoke the dwarves at the gate to a pulp!

(End of this chapter)