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

Chapter 461 You understand military strategy
"Speed ​​up!" Roland urged anxiously, but in truth, he had already given up all hope. His primary objective on this trip was revenge; after all this time, even the most valiant ordinary soldier would have...

"..." Apophis Breo followed behind Roland without saying a word, but silently urged his warhorse to increase its speed.

"Your Highness! Slow down!" Omske said anxiously. He didn't care about those soldiers. After all, war always involves sacrifices, it's just a matter of how many. But Roland's safety was of paramount importance. Roland currently had no children, and the safety of the entire kingdom rested on his shoulders. If he had left behind even a son or daughter, he could have lived a carefree life. But now, that was absolutely not allowed!
Roland, who was stopped by Omske, was forced to be crammed into the middle of the group and surrounded by a bunch of metal cans. Although he felt safe, he no longer had the passion for charging forward that Roland wanted.

"Omske, speed up! We don't have time to waste! Even if we're going to get revenge, we have to catch those bastards by the tail!" Roland was bewildered by Omske's cautious advance; what knightly order marched at almost the speed of walking...?

Omske's lips twitched, but he remained silent and continued to proceed slowly and cautiously, prioritizing prudence. After all, the king who had almost been beheaded twice had no idea why he was doing this. Wasn't it because he was often the target of others' attacks? How did King Théoden of Rohan die? Wasn't it because he rushed too hard and got too close to the Ringwraiths? He had never been close to the Ringwraiths before.
But at least King Théoden fought the Ringwraiths and died. If Roland had been killed by Orcs, that would have been ridiculous. The bards of Middle-earth would have sung this story until the end of the world, since the king, protected by the Knights, was killed by Orcs whose fighting prowess was inferior… all the knights could have committed suicide. Not a single one of them, who had fought as a whole, would have had the face to live on.

……

"Brave warriors! Charge straight at the enemy chieftain!" Olaf swung his long spear, the sharp, cold light illuminating the orc's terrified face.

"The lord said to attack the central army directly and kill the enemy chieftain in battle! The bandits will collapse without a fight!" Olaf's eyes flashed with cold killing intent.

The Lagrange are martial, these northern "barbarians" believe that might makes right. These private soldiers, who inherit the spirit of the Lagrange King's Landing families, are the barbarians among barbarians. Back then, the silver-gray warriors and the blue-green swift infantry on the Wall of the North formed the eternal nightmare of the far north orcs!
Without exaggeration, the Valiant Warriors are the true "deadly" weapons. Their 2.5-meter-long heavy halberds are deadly once wielded. No orc can withstand their terrifying sharpness. Killing people is like mowing grass, no joke! Compared to the point and line attacks of most soldiers, the Valiant Warriors are one of the few units that can attack a wide area. They are also cheap and easy to use. No wonder the Grand Duke of King's Landing replaced the Empire's most common Swift Infantry with these fragile damage-dealing machines.

……

"Damn it!" Omske's face darkened, a bad premonition rising within him. The corpses of orcs strewn across the ground before him seemed to foreshadow the fate of the surrounded squad...

"Speed ​​up! They should be just ahead!" Roland urged. The scattered orc corpses on the ground were traces of their pursuit. Following the large number of fallen dead branches and smashed grass and trees, anyone who wasn't blind could tell which direction they were heading.

"Apophis, I think you've gone mad! You're really disgracing the Breo family, the Lions of King's Landing! You actually let them chase you in this weather..." Roland said angrily, looking at the snow that was deep enough to reach his ankles. The snowfall last night had caused the temperature to drop sharply, and the danger of chasing in the snow was undoubtedly greatly increased.

“The orcs have no way to survive, so you’re sending the kingdom’s people to their deaths too?” Roland’s teeth were grinding together. He simply couldn’t understand Apophis Breo’s mindset and motives when he gave the order.

"I..." Apophis Breo opened his mouth, unable to defend himself. Facts spoke louder than words. Regardless of his original orders, the fact that his soldiers had escaped was undeniable. Apophis Breo was filled with unbearable grievance. His original words were something like "carefully pursue and drive those guys out of the country"... Could someone tell him what "careful" meant? Was it "careful" for ten men to chase after nearly a thousand orcs?
"Don't let me catch you!" Apophis Breo gritted his teeth in hatred. These soldiers who misunderstood their orders, he should have just left this mess to Renault and the brothers Luke and Merck Leopold!

Apophis Breo glanced worriedly at Roland. He was still thinking about the Imperial Outpost slot Roland held; that was the starting point for a powerful nobleman. Without it, the glory of the King's Landing would take forever to recover. What if Roland questioned his abilities because of this…? Apophis Breo shook his head, not daring to think any further. He already wanted to crush these private soldiers who had slaughtered the orcs and their superiors. "Tsk!" Omske, walking at the front, his battle aura surging, frowned as he looked at the dismembered corpses on the ground. He couldn't help but glance back at Apophis Breo. This kid's got some skills! The King's Landing's private soldiers were indeed unique. The groups of orc corpses on the ground showed almost no signs of resistance, indicating they were instantly killed! Moreover, judging from the twisted faces and crawling marks on their upper bodies, these orcs didn't die immediately but struggled for a long time, bleeding themselves dry…

"The Lion King truly lives up to its name!" Omske sighed with emotion. Even the fallen Lion King, with limited resources, trained such fierce private soldiers. It was hard to imagine how valiant the armored warriors on the Wall in the North must have been, and what kind of disaster had brought down the Empire...

"Alert!" Omske shouted, raising his lance. There seemed to be several figures moving among the swaying dead branches ahead.

"No, no, no! We're on the same side!" Two brave warriors jumped out, raised their halberds high, and knelt before the knights.

"..." Omske suddenly yanked the reins, his face twitching violently. He was utterly shocked by the two men's actions. Was it really appropriate for them to give a "French" military salute?

"Huh?" Roland stared wide-eyed at Apophis Breo with an incredulous expression, his thoughts written all over his face, as if he were about to point at Apophis Breo and ask, "Is this how you lead troops?"

"..." Apophis Breo's lips twitched, his lance itching to be used. Should he just stab them to death? Apophis Breo felt incredibly embarrassed.

In front of all the members of the Holy Light Knights, these two valiant warriors were truly an eye-opener, as such a unique scene was rarely seen among the Lagrange soldiers.

"Who taught you to kneel like that..." Apophis Breo didn't care about overstepping his bounds and asked Roland directly, even though his face had already been thoroughly humiliated.

"My lord, we were afraid you wouldn't be able to stop and would crash into us, so we..." the two soldiers said timidly, like children who had done something wrong.

"Then where did this kneeling gesture come from?" Apophis Breo's voice was chilling, his eyes already scanning the hearts of the two men.

"Uh... the squad leader said, 'A man's knees are worth gold, but he can go against his conscience if necessary! Keep him alive so he can be of use in the future!'" The two exchanged a glance and completely betrayed Olaf.

"Talented! You understand military strategy!" Roland was dumbfounded. He never expected that there would be such talent among the fearless Lagrange soldiers. What kind of French style is this?
(End of this chapter)