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

Chapter 1067 Demigod!

“Of course, I recognize the Golden Flower family mark of the twelve Gondolin families. Thinking of the Golden Flower family members of the Valley of the Dead, you are the first person I thought of…” Roland said respectfully, patting his chest. His ability to recognize Griffindale wasn't due to Roland's exceptional insight, but rather because he sensed the unfathomable aura emanating from him. Roland then checked the system and indeed, the identity listed was Golden Flower Lord Griffindale, and the rank was even more impressive: Demigod… (This person could also be called Griffindale.)
"A learned king!" Grofendale nodded to Roland, acknowledging Roland's insight.

"Did you come here specifically to wait for me?" Roland asked curiously, gazing at Grofendale's handsome face.

“Of course, having just heard of a new power rising in the North, I naturally had the opportunity to come and see for myself, since your great name has already spread throughout the Middle-earth through the songs of bards!” Grovendale smiled and nodded to Roland.

"Thank you for your recognition," Roland said neither humbly nor arrogantly. Looking into Grofendale's smiling eyes, Roland did not feel relaxed, but rather felt a strange pressure and a sense of being scrutinized, as if he had been stripped naked and placed under a spotlight. However, the aggressive gaze quickly faded away.

"Divine power detection detected, blocked!" The system's light screen flashed in Roland's eyes before disappearing into thin air.

"You're very good! Now I believe you really can do it!" Grofendale smiled meaningfully at Roland, his eyes less scrutinizing and more full of recognition and expectation.

"I hope everything goes well, Your Highness Griffindale. I've been out for too long, please excuse me!" Roland nodded to him and took his leave. Griffindale did not stop Roland, but simply smiled and nodded back, indicating that Roland should do as he pleased, and watched him leave.

"What do you think of him?" Elrond stepped out from behind the bushes in the garden and asked, looking in the direction Roland had left.

"A very remarkable human, he too possesses the blessing of a god, though it is unknown which god it is, and it seems he is unaware of the god's favor upon him..." Glorfindel followed Elrond's gaze, then spoke softly, his voice melodious and pleasant, like a gentle breeze...

"A divine blessing?" Elrond asked solemnly. No one understood the power of the gods better than the long-lived elves, who had witnessed the last surviving gods… the remnants who survived the restart of the era after Ragnarok. After all, even the Lagrange Empire had found its own plan for the spark after the Great Symphony's final chapter restarted, and the dragons had found refuge. It was normal for the survivors of Ragnarok to have survived that cataclysmic disaster; Sauron was a prime example…

"A blessing? Not necessarily... perhaps a curse?" Griffindale sighed. No one was more qualified to speak on this matter than him. Having lived for thousands of years, he was no longer afraid of death. However, the favor of the gods had resurrected him, who should have fallen into eternal slumber when Gondolin fell in the First Age, making him a near-immortal being. He had protected this land for too long, so long that he was tired of living. To him, the favor of the gods was not a blessing but a curse!

“Perhaps. In the torrent of time, we are all pawns swept along, only able to try to leave a mark on ourselves and what we cherish…” Elrond sighed. “What do you need me to do? You didn’t just send me to see him to look at him, did you?” Griffindale calmly looked at Elrond. Although Elrond was nominally the Lord of the Valley, and Griffindale was one of the lords of the Valley Elves, they were essentially equals. In fact, Griffindale was even half a level higher than Elrond, a half-elf, in terms of seniority. Therefore, Griffindale could see that Elrond was doing this intentionally.

“Of course not. Did you sense the presence of the One Ring on him? His existence is too similar to the one in the prophecy who wields the Ring!” Elrond had an instinctive fear and vigilance toward the Ring. When Roland, a man shrouded in mist, stood before him, he almost assumed that Roland was carrying the One Ring. The reason he didn’t make a move was simply because he was afraid of alerting Roland. Arranging for Roland to meet in Griffindale was Elrond’s method of verification.

“The Ring is not in his possession, and that supreme evil power cannot escape my senses. King Roland is a righteous and kind man!” Griffindale said, looking into Elrond’s eyes.

"Then I'm relieved!" Elrond didn't doubt Griffindale's words, after all, this was a living demigod! Although he was only a hair's breadth away from being a demigod, and could temporarily possess demigod-level combat power with the Vya Ring, he couldn't compare to Griffindale, who was a true demigod, in terms of perception of the rules!
"Middle-earth is about to descend into chaos again... I can already sense the winds... If the winds are blowing, how far away can the storm be?" Glorfindel gazed melancholically southward, where dark power was gathering. He knew Sauron would definitely return! As for why he didn't strike first and send Sauron flying while Sauron was accumulating power? Don't be ridiculous. No matter how frustrated Sauron was, he was still a true demigod. Glorfindel, being a demigod himself, naturally had no way to attack him. So rather than letting him retreat underground and suddenly unleash his fury, it was better to keep him under his nose from the start and monitor his movements. This was Glorfindel's fishing tactic—simple but effective!
"Hopefully they can hold out in the North for a while. The orc population in the far north is growing like crazy. If Sauron really provokes a large-scale orc invasion south, it will be catastrophic!" Elrond gave a wry smile. Although the orcs in the far north are numerous, their intelligence and fighting strength are far inferior to their southern counterparts. The only thing that's frightening is their numbers. So Elrond hopes that this so-called Alliance of the Lonely Mountains can hold off the orcs' southward advance; otherwise, it will be difficult to fight once the war starts! (Roland: There's also the classic defection scene. Master Saruman, the master of Middle-earth biology, hasn't even made his move yet! If Elrond knew, the sky would fall. The leader of the White Way has already defected at the start...)
……

"Holy crap! Holy crap! I saw a god! A living one!" Roland exclaimed excitedly as soon as he returned to his residence.

"Divine protection? Your Majesty, this is an auspicious omen!" Marquis Al-Tegran Franz was not about to let Roland lose face or words, and immediately began to flatter him.

“Auspicious omen? Don’t tell me it’s not a spit! There are so many scammers these days. Sir, you’re tired, you should rest for a few more days. Look, you’re even hallucinating!” Caslo shook his head and sighed.

“Why would I lie to you! A demigod! Alive! A legend of the elves! Lord of the Golden Flower—Groffindale!” Roland whispered.

"What? The old man isn't dead yet?" A voice suddenly popped up from the corner, freezing everyone in their tracks.

Everyone looked towards the source of the voice and saw Thranduil, the most filial son of the elves. His words made Thorin and the others look at him with surprise. Are all elves this filial? Only Roland, who knew the inside story, twitched his lips. After all, Thranduil killed everyone equally, even demigods...