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

Chapter 58 Battle of Lagrange Plains (3)
"Roar!" The warhammer slammed directly onto Manicati. Feeling the immense force coming from his hand, Verway used the momentum to tumble in the air before landing back on the ground.

"Damn elves!" O'Navel looked at the deep slash on the warhammer. The steel around it was even melting, and the magic runes on the struck side were completely destroyed.

“Mixed-blood scum!” Verway looked at Onavel’s face; his pointed ears and unusual appearance clearly indicated that he had elven blood.

I'll tear your skinny arms and legs to shreds!

"You filthy scum, you have insulted the blood of us elves!" Verway said with a hostile expression.

Almost every Elf King is a top-tier Rank 6 professional, but the chieftain of the grassland elf tribe is clearly not an Elf King. Although he has the potential to become an Elf King, he is currently only a Rank 4 high-level ranger because he lacks the nourishment of the Magic Well and the faith of his people.

Facing the fifth-tier warrior Onaville, Verway was at a disadvantage and even suffered a loss!
"Stop the Knights! I want to annihilate all these human infantry!" Seeing Roland lead the knights in another charge, Onaville clearly had no intention of letting the Knights successfully divide the battlefield; he simply sent out those unarmored cannon fodder to stop them.

O'Neill understood that the Knights were already at their last gasp. Looking at the flickering battle flames enveloping them, it was clear that as long as this infantry was wiped out, the Knights and the dragon knights would be harmless. Exchanging these ordinary orcs for the wealth and elite soldiers promised by Sauron was obviously a very profitable deal.

"Looks like you're the only defenders here? Taking down Lonely Mountain will be just around the corner." The Wasteland Orc King laughed cruelly.

"The people of the grasslands will not yield! The glory of the elves still shines upon us!" Verway declared without any politeness.

"Long live Lagrange!"

"Long live the Empire!"

"Long live the king!"

"For home!"

The numerous Lagrange soldiers roared! The glory and splendor of the Empire still flowed in their blood; united as one, they would be invincible!
"My lord! Listen!" Renault, who had just pulled his longsword from the orc's neck, suddenly looked relieved.

"We have never lost our honor! Renault!" Roland also heard the shouts from the soldiers at the bottom of the ranks.

"Knights! For Lagrange!" Roland roared.

"Kill! Long live Lagrange!"

……

"Pursue!" A flash of battle aura appeared on Verway's body, and he instantly appeared beside Onaville, sweeping his Manicati sword horizontally.

"Clang!" Reacting quickly, O'Neill raised his warhammer.

"Roar!" The dark red warhammer slammed heavily into the ground, and a shockwave rippled outwards from the center of the warhammer.

Verway tapped his toes and instantly sprang into the air, avoiding the shockwave.

“You can’t beat me!” O’Neill swung his warhammer, striking the Manicati in Verway’s hand again and again.

"Die!" Verway roared, and a visible torrent of battle aura was poured into the warhammer, which then roared toward Verway.

"Thump!" Manicati was pressed into an unbelievable angle from the middle, and Verway was also shaken away.

"Pfft!" A mouthful of blood spurted out by Valve; he was injured!

“You! You’re just a homeless wretched wretch! You’re just a pathetic vagrant! You’re abandoned elves! Ha ha ha!” Onaville laughed mockingly.

"Pfft!" With one hand gripping his sword and the other supporting him on the ground, Vervier collapsed to his knees, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Vervier's consciousness blurred; he vaguely saw his deceased parents, the fallen members of his tribe, and his ruined home… Yes! The grassland elves are abandoned elves… We have no home…

"I'm tired, Father!" In Verway's eyes, his father was walking towards him step by step.

"I did my best! King Roland..." Verway could no longer support his heavy body; the severe internal injuries caused him to fall into a coma.

"Tsk tsk tsk! What other options do you have now?" O'Navel licked the dark red bloodstains on his warhammer and said menacingly.

"Whoosh~ thud!" A dragon lance descended from the sky and instantly struck O'Navel, who had just stopped in his tracks.

"Sin! Be punished!" Caslo, wielding a mithril sword, leaped off the dragon's back. Just moments before, Caslo, who had been slaughtering orcs, had witnessed Onaville break through the shield barrier and Valvee fall to the ground. He rushed over to provide support. Kaldor roared and unleashed a torrent of dragon breath carrying the wind element towards Onaville.

After a few rolls, O'Neill dodged the fatal blow, but the orc behind him was not so lucky; a trail of blood, tens of meters long, stretched out in front of Kaldor.

"Dragon Rider!" O'Navel gritted his teeth.

"May the Dragon God forgive you!" Caslo said coldly after waving his hand to send the dragon into the air. Flying dragons are not like giant dragons; even with dragon armor, they can still be killed by sneak attacks. Therefore, the dragon's battlefield is always in the sky! There are too many dangers on the ground.

"A mere Grand Knight dares to stop me?" O'Navel felt insulted!

"I am never alone!" Caslo said angrily, glancing at the knights who were still charging desperately and then at the light infantry behind him who had suffered heavy casualties.

"Let the dragon's wrath devour you!" The greatsword, imbued with the power of the dragon, thrust straight at him. O'Navel dared not take it head-on, as the dragon-derived power directly suppressed the orc's bloodline—this was the pressure of blood!

"Roar!" The warhammer struck the mithril sword, causing the longsword to veer sharply to one side. The immense force even shifted Caslo's lower body, causing his body to tilt in the opposite direction of the impact.

"Awooo!" Undeterred by his momentum, Onaville continued to swing his warhammer left and right, striking Caslow repeatedly and forcing him to retreat.

"You have power but can't use it, you're a pathetic wretch!" Onaville said arrogantly as he watched Caslo, who possessed powerful dragon battle aura, being forced to retreat repeatedly by his attacks.

"Dragon Knight Secret Technique - Gale Knight Slash!" Caslo finally found his chance and activated the secret technique passed down through generations of Dragon Knights!

As Caslo rapidly flicked his wrist, streaks of cyan wind blades condensed in the void, swirling around the sword. As more and more wind blades appeared, they slowly transformed into a four-legged dragon that coiled around Caslo's body.

"Roar!" Guided by Caslo's longsword, the wind blade dragon flew towards Onaville, and the intense friction between the high-speed dancing wind elemental dragon and the air created a dragon roar.

O'Navel narrowed his eyes, grabbed the orc next to him, and threw him at the wind dragon. The violent wind elemental fluctuations tore the dragon apart in mid-air. Seeing the situation was bad, O'Navel plunged into the crowd...

The next second! The wind elemental dragon crashed down, and within a radius of several meters, everything was instantly turned into a bloody mess by the swirling wind elements.

"Die!" O'Neill, hidden in the crowd, threw a battle axe while Caslo's old power had faded and his new power had not yet been generated.

"Boom!" Caslo, who barely managed to hold on, was thrown away by the immense force.

"Roar~ Awooo!" Roaring, O'Navel leaped down, raising his warhammer high.

"Clang!" The sound of metal clashing rang out as a longsword engulfed in flames blocked the warhammer that was about to fall on Caslo's head.

"You bastard, your opponent is me!" Verway, looking like a madman, grinned, his mouth overflowing with blood.

(End of this chapter)