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

Chapter 674 The Witch King of Angmar Arrives!
A loud bang rang out, followed by a flurry of orc limbs flying through the air. A thick vine, like a serpent, slithered across the city wall, sweeping and grabbing orcs before flinging them away.

"Oil!" Apophis Breo roared at Olaf.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Belatedly realizing what was happening, Olaf quickly directed the militia to bring over countless fist-sized clay pots and launch them using makeshift slingshots! (They were just strips of cloth, the most primitive kind of catapult.)
"Rocket!" Lind shouted in surprise.

"Pfft! Boom!" As the fire-attribute archer in the elven team launched a barrage of arrows condensed from fire-elemental battle energy, the oil ignited by the explosion of the battle energy was quickly set ablaze in the air, instantly engulfing the entire fortress in flames. Large numbers of orcs howled and ran backward, while humanoid "torches" darted wildly across the battlefield. Every now and then, a "torch" would collide with another orc, and a few seconds later, two humanoid "torches" would begin to race across the battlefield.

"Pfft!" Only a very small number of orcs had their flames extinguished by water or ice attribute orc professionals using their battle aura; the majority of them became torches illuminating the night sky.

"Thump! Thump!" One after another, orc corpses were flung away. The vines quickly cleared away the orc remains on the city wall. Clearly, this was Dura's handiwork. At the most crucial moment, he released a fourth-tier spell, creating giant withered vines that emerged from under the pile of corpses and disintegrated it. Then, the giant vines shifted their target to the orcs still on the city wall. They climbed up the fortress like pythons, wrapped around the orcs, and threw them away. Considering the distance of dozens of meters thrown from the seven-meter-high city wall... the chances of survival for ordinary orcs were worrying! But don't forget that those giant vines didn't just throw them away and that was it. They would strangle the creatures they entangled... so what was thrown away were corpses that were like rotten mud.

"Thump!" Seeing no hope of reinforcements, the elite orcs trapped in a corner of the city wall jumped off the wall and fled in a haphazard manner. However, most of them were shot and killed by the elven rangers. Only a few professionals managed to return to the orc army by relying on their battle aura flames to protect themselves.

The orcs calmed down by then. The riot had caused considerable losses, but the orc leaders quickly quelled it by killing the "torches" who had charged the ranks indiscriminately. The "torches" that had not charged the ranks soon died on their own on the battlefield, and then ignited the other corpses around them.

In an instant, the aroma of roasted meat filled the battlefield. Before the militiamen could even feel disgusted, the smell quickly turned into a pungent, acrid stench! One after another, orcs sizzled and dripped with oil as they burned. An eerie silence fell over the battlefield, but both sides knew this was the calm before the storm. Both the orcs and the allied forces seized the opportunity to rest, knowing that once the flames died down… the next battle would begin.

……

"What are the casualties?" Apophis Breo asked the other two first. As for his own men? He didn't need to ask; a quick glance at the bodies lying on the ground—mostly humans clad in brown standard armor—was enough...

"We've lost 47 of our people so far!" Lind frowned, deeply saddened. Although the dwarves were holding the line, casualties among the elves were still unavoidable.

“One of my tribesmen sprained his arm…” Balin said after a moment of silence. Lind and Apophis Breo had originally thought the dwarves had suffered too many casualties and were about to offer some words of comfort to Balin to help him accept the loss, but then he told them this? A sprain? Is that even an injury?

"The regular army's elite warriors have suffered nearly two hundred casualties, and the militia's losses are even more severe, with nearly three hundred killed in action!" Dula said with a dark face. As the only medical unit, he knew the casualty figures best.

"Hold on a little longer! Dawn is almost here!" Apophis Breo could only say, his heart already pleading with Roland countless times. Now, as long as Roland appeared in front of him, Roland was his ancestor! He didn't want to fight this damned battle for even a minute longer... The feeling of his tribesmen constantly sacrificing themselves while victory seemed so far away was truly devastating, especially the illusion that the orcs were endless, which made all the Lagranges physically and mentally exhausted.

"If all else fails, let's use a forbidden spell as a deterrent!" Balin said, taking off his helmet and panting.

A collective gloom settled over everyone. After all, using a forbidden spell scroll meant admitting defeat; those scrolls, once used, were a matter of utmost importance. Besides, why hadn't the Ringwraiths appeared yet? They were on guard against forbidden spells! The Ringwraiths weren't without countermeasures against forbidden spells. Apophis Breo didn't believe the Ringwraiths would let his forbidden spell land safely on the orc army below. After all, these weren't cannon fodder like before; these were elite armored orcs! If it weren't for the elite dwarf and elf troops holding off Apophis Breo's army, they would have collapsed long ago.

Thank goodness! Thanks to Balin for bringing three hundred skullcrushers! Those tin cans became the undisputed fulcrum of the battlefield in this night battle. Elven rangers and human soldiers fought around these dwarves, cooperating to hold sections of the city wall, preventing the orcs from crossing their lines and dividing the battlefield. Clearly, these tin cans that the orcs found disgusting played a crucial role.

“I sense something’s wrong!” Apophis Breo stared bewilderedly at the dark clouds of war, which always gave him a strange feeling. “Is it just my imagination?” Apophis Breo shook his head, not giving it much thought.

“Ha…” A deep voice suddenly rang out, and all the humans, dwarves and elves trembled. They sprang up as if springs had been inserted into them, crowding on the battlements and staring in shock at the outside world.

"What is that sound? I find it utterly repulsive!" Lind frowned.

"It's a Ringwraith! Such powerful strength! I can feel the tremor of a soul!" Balin's face was very pale.

"This is troublesome!" Apophis Breo exclaimed, stunned. It seemed the Ringwraiths were going to have to take matters into their own hands.
Suddenly, the dark clouds of war descended upon the orc army from the distance, and then began to swirl, one, two... three black tornadoes appeared on the battlefield.

“The Ringwraiths are hiding in the shadow of war!” Bahrain, being an old and shrewd man, guessed the truth at a glance.

“Three? Three Ringwraiths? Wasn’t there only one?” Lind suddenly realized the blind spot and turned to Apophis Breo in shock, exclaiming.

"Cowards, dwarves, and disgusting creatures hiding behind the rocks... are you ready to die?" A low murmur echoed in everyone's hearts (humans, dwarves, elves), and then a figure emerged from the black mist, his appearance just visible in the faint morning light.

"Pfft!" Many militiamen and brave warriors were shaken to their core and then spat out a mouthful of blood, clearly suffering internal injuries from the shock.

"This is..." Linde looked as if he had seen a ghost.

"Retreat! We retreat! Duke! Cover the evacuation of the people!" Balin grabbed Apophis Breo, who was still in a daze, and shook him.

"Go!!! Your Highness! Get out of here! Take the people and escape! I will lead the soldiers to cover your retreat!" Dura trembled all over, then looked resolutely at Apophis Breo. The soldiers he was referring to were naturally the Valiant Warriors and the Knights of King's Landing.

"All knights assemble! Prepare for battle!" Olaf gave Apophis Breo a deep look before gathering the King's Landing knights who had been hiding and serving as reserves, clearly intending to stay behind to cover their retreat.

“Angmar… the Witch King!” Lind trembled with fear, swallowed hard, and stared at Apophis Breo with a frantic look on his face.

"We've been fighting this thing the whole time?" Lind's expression was worse than if his mother had died; he was almost in tears.

two more