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

Chapter 541 Night Raid and Counterattack
“Let’s go back! Maybe the orcs haven’t arrived yet!” Omsk gazed at the surging river.

"Giddy up!" The knights turned their horses around and galloped north.

"Your Majesty, it's getting dark! Shall we set up camp and rest?" a knight asked.

"Let's get going and find a suitable campsite along the way!" Omske turned his head and looked around. The weather was still cold, and it would be easy to get sick if there was no sheltered place to rest.

……

"This is a good spot, Your Majesty! These rocks and trees block the wind, and we can rest well in this depression!"

“That’s really good! Slow down! We’ll camp here tonight!” Omsk nodded in approval of the campsite.

"Row!"

"Great, I can finally get some rest!"

The knights chattered amongst themselves as they dismounted and began to wipe the sweat off their warhorses, removing their armor. In the darkness, even a magical beast or warhorse could catch a cold if the sweat wasn't wiped away properly.

"A few of you, light the campfire!" Omske chuckled and directed the group of roughnecks. Under the night sky, a group of sincere knights laughed joyfully, creating a warm and peaceful scene.

"Crack!" The knights piled up the dry branches and firewood they had collected along the way into several campfires and lit them. The red flames warmed everyone's hearts and also brought out the deep-seated fatigue in everyone. Before long, everyone except a few knights on guard fell into a deep sleep.

The vigilant knights glanced at the flickering firelight, tightened the blankets wrapped around their bodies, and began to stand guard.

The night was utterly silent, but soon a few eerie lights flickered and then quickly disappeared, and a fishy smell wafted through the air.

……

"Sniff~" A vigilant knight sniffed hard, and he smelled a faint, fishy stench in the air.

"Something's wrong! Wake everyone up!" the knight said to his companion.

The execution of the Lagrange Knights was impeccable; in just over ten seconds, all the knights were awakened, and Omsk, dragging his tired body, squeezed through the crowd immediately.

"What happened?" Omske asked gravely.

"There's a strange smell in the air! I think we should be careful!" The knight who noticed the problem stepped forward.

"..." Omske didn't speak but closed his eyes and smelled it. There was indeed a faint scent.

"Looks like we have guests. Mount up and prepare to entertain them!" Omske grinned, a sinister smile spreading across his face.

……

"Shhh!" Under the cover of night, a group of wolf riders quietly surrounded the Lagrange Knights' encampment from all directions. Unfortunately, the alert Omske had already sensed their presence thousands of meters away with his mental power. One or two would be fine, but the mental fluctuations emitted by a group of living creatures were no less than setting off a firecracker on the two of them. If they didn't notice, they should have just run into them and killed them.

Just as the orc wolf riders were still furtively preparing to attack the Lagrange Knights, suddenly Omske emerged from the flames, accompanied by light! No, it was a group of knights who charged out!
The orc werewolf riders were instantly terrified. The Lagrange Knights seemed to have charged down from a moral high ground, their backs radiating dazzling light! Their armor, weapons, and shields frantically reflected the light, illuminating the darkness with bursts of colorful battle aura! The once dim wilderness was now as bright as day!
"Kill!" Omske's lance swept across the battlefield, shattering the bones and tendons of dozens of orcs! Their still-alive nerves twitched weakly, bone fragments piercing their skin, brains splattering everywhere. The dire wolves, terrified by the terrifying aura, defecated and urinated, becoming limp and powerless. The knights behind them, not to be outdone, unleashed fire, water, ice... all sorts of battle auras and skills, mowing down the orc-wolf cavalry like cutting grass. "Kill them! Don't retreat!" Although the tide had turned, the orc-wolf cavalry commander still issued a futile, desperate order. The orc soldiers, indeed brain-dead, even trembling violently with fear, still charged towards the knights.

"Damn it!" Omske was already annoyed by being disturbed from his sleep, and his morning grumpiness hadn't even dissipated when these bastards not only refused to surrender but also dared to attack him.

"Whoosh!" A sword beam, as sharp as a crescent moon, shot past, and before the orc could react, he was already decapitated!
"Crack!" After casually slashing down several war wolves that had lost their masters, Omske looked up at the surrounding battlefield. It was a tragic scene; it was basically a one-sided massacre by the orcs. The most elite orc commander, along with several professional orc wolf riders, charged towards the knights, but was also easily killed by a few knights. Soon, the dim wilderness was filled with Lagrange knights holding torches and hacking down orc deserters.

"Damn it! These brutes! Sound the horns! Assemble the soldiers!" Omsk completely ignored his own actions, describing the knights he led as brutes and killers at every turn.

"Hmm—" With a short blast of the horn, the knights stopped their horses and then gathered in the direction from which the horn sounded.

"Did you capture any prisoners?" Omske suddenly realized that he might have been too ruthless and forgotten to leave any survivors.

"He's here! He's here! He's here!" a knight exclaimed urgently, and the other knights beside him quickly made way for him to come over.

"Woo~"

Omske looked down and immediately burst out laughing. Three unfortunate men, bound by ropes, had been dragged over. The dragging had left them covered in blood and gore, and they were now groaning in pain.

"Whoosh!" Omsk dismounted and came to the side of the three orcs.

"Tell me, who are you? Which clan or tribe are you from?" Omske kicked them with interest.

"Pah!" A half-orc prisoner glared fiercely at Omske with his defiant eyes and spat at him casually.

"?" Omsk quickly dodged, the first time a hero who had never dodged a hail of arrows and forbidden spells had managed to dodge.

With a "whoosh!", Omsk chopped off the orc's head with a single sword stroke, flicked away the black blood from the blade, and moved on to the next orc.

"You!" Omske pressed his sword against its heart.

"The Ringwraiths will tear... ugh!" Before the words were finished, a sword tip pierced through its chest.

"Irrelevant answer!" Omske shook his head regretfully. "I gave you a chance, but you were useless!"

"Swish!" This time, Omske didn't waste any words and sliced ​​off the orc's only remaining ear with a single sword strike. Whew! Now it's just one ear!

"Speak! Who are you people?!"

……

"Our army has bypassed you! Your cities tremble beneath our feet! Hahaha!" The orc, now reduced to a mere stump, laughed wildly.

"Pfft!" The orc's voice abruptly stopped as he was split in two.

"Noisy!" Omsk was in a state of utter confusion. He had just learned an important piece of information from the prisoner: a few days ago, the orc army had actually brushed past them! The thought sent chills down Omsk's spine!
(End of this chapter)