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

Chapter 219 Convergence
"Welcome, Your Excellency Dragon Knight!" Thorin warmly greeted Caslo.

"Greetings, Your Majesty King Yamashita! I have come to inform His Excellency Balin of the upcoming expedition and rendezvous," Caslo explained his purpose.

"Oh? You mean the expedition to Moria? King Roland is already prepared?" Thorin thought for a second and then remembered this.

“Yes, my lord has assembled the army, and now we are just waiting for Balin and the others.” Caslo pointed out that Roland was ready and only the dwarves were missing.

"They started preparing a long time ago, but they've been gathering provisions these past few days. I sent someone to ask if they can set off." Thorin hadn't paid much attention to this. He had already become the king of the mountain and fulfilled his ambitions and wishes. While he approved of the icing on the cake of reclaiming Moria, he wasn't in a hurry. After all, the dwarven kingdom had already stood tall on the Lonely Mountain again. Even if they couldn't reclaim Moria, they still had a home to return to. So Thorin was quite relaxed.

"Thank you..." Caslo nodded.

……

"Oh! Sir Caslo! It is truly an honor for us that you have come in person!" Balin exclaimed as soon as he saw Caslo.

The dwarves were shouting and yelling in a chaotic manner, which gave Caslo an instant headache. After all, the dwarves were also proud to have witnessed the world's greatest professional, the dragon knight!

After finally calming down the dwarves, Caslow had a chance to ask his question: "So... are you preparing to set off?"

Seeing the dwarven warriors in full armor with jerky hanging from their shields, cheese chunks on their spear tips, and large chunks of black bread on their backs, Caslo couldn't help but grin. So, are these chubby guys going on a trip?

"Yes! We put a lot of effort into preparing these rations! After all, it's not a good thing to let the soldiers go hungry. Fresh barley roasted black bread! Top-quality dwarven roasted meat jerky! Rich and creamy dwarven lamb cheese without a drop of water!" Balin enthusiastically introduced to Caslo.

“Um… if you and your men are ready, then head to the outskirts of Swiftstream and join us. My king led the army out of the city this morning…” Caslo’s head drooped with three black lines. They had agreed to depart today, but these honest dwarves were still carefully preparing their rations.

"Oh! By the Dragon God! What's that?" Caslo saw a truly shocking sight: a dwarf was carrying an oak barrel taller than himself, which sounded like it was filled with liquid. As for what it could contain? Surely a dwarf wouldn't be carrying a barrel of water.

"Ah! The finest dwarven ale! This is the source of our strength and motivation! With it, the lads will be even more energetic!" Balin said heartily.

"..." Kaslow suddenly considered whether he should abandon this expedition. No matter how you looked at it, this group of dwarves seemed very unreliable, a world of difference compared to the image of the dwarves that Thorin had brought with him when he had only a few walnuts and dates.

"Good heavens... drinking during wartime... His Highness might be beheading someone..." Caslo wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Perhaps only dwarves would be so reckless. In Lagrange's military law, unless drinking to bolster courage before a major battle or to celebrate victory afterward, drinking is not allowed during wartime without exception. After all, getting drunk and causing trouble is no joke, and military and national affairs are not something one person can bear alone.

"You humans have so many rules! If my young men don't drink, how will they have the strength to fight the enemy?"

"Floyd! Olli! Oyin! Call our lads together! Let's go and defeat those demons!" Balin shouted, brandishing his battle axe.

……

"May your journey be successful and your return safe!" Thorin said with a slight bow as he saw the group off outside the city of Irubor.

"Give my regards to King Roland, and thank him for helping our people reclaim our lost territory." Thorin bowed deeply to Caslo.

"I will convey the message. I will go and inform my king to prepare." Caslo nodded in acknowledgment and then blew his dragon flute. The azure-colored Kaldor tore through the void, and its long, lithe dragon body appeared before everyone. "Roar!" With a long, drawn-out dragon roar, the wind dragon carried Caslo's figure away into the distance.

……

"How's the situation?" Roland sat on a tree stump, trimming his nails with a dagger, watching Caslo fall from the sky. Roland asked idly.

“Um… they’ve already set off…” Caslo’s lips twitched as he thought of the dwarfs. He decided to leave it for His Highness to see; he wouldn’t describe it himself, fearing that Roland would simply lead his soldiers back to the city after he described it to King Roland.

"Good heavens, these dwarves are really bold!" Roland muttered helplessly. He and his 500 men had been out in the wind all morning, and the dwarves had only just set off.

"Let's wait for them a little longer... we've already been waiting all morning anyway," Omske advised, rubbing his stiff neck.

"That's the only way. We can't just turn back now, can we?" Roland said, uttering a sentence he later regretted. If only he had done that back then.

“…” Caslo glanced at Roland, swallowed hard, but ultimately remained silent.

……

"Your Highness, the dwarves have caught up!" Caslo rode up to Roland and said.

"Thank goodness, they've finally arrived... Do you know how frustrating this journey has been for me?" Roland sighed. The group had probably walked less than 20 miles in half a day, their pace almost as slow as a sightseeing trip as they waited for the dwarves to catch up.

"Alright, let's rest here for a bit and wait for our friends!" Roland waved his hand, signaling everyone to stop and take a break.

……

"Oh my God! What is that?!" Roland could see the oak barrel (human height!) from a great distance.

"Oh! Dragon God! Are the dwarves planning to go on a picnic?" Roland was dumbfounded when he saw the dried goods hanging on the spears and shields. So these "little cuties" were planning to go out for a meal?
"Oh! King Roland is so happy to see you!" Balin ran over and opened his arms.

“Hey! Bahrain, I need an explanation!” Roland demanded, pointing at the dwarf army that looked like armed farmers.

“Oh! There’s no way around it, we don’t have any space rings to store food. As everyone knows, most of our dwarven alchemists have died out, and we don’t have many space storage devices left. We can’t afford to be extravagant and use them to store food.” Balin looked at Roland and his group, who were empty-handed, and understood that they must have packed all their supplies into their space equipment. After all, everyone knew that there was a wise man in Swiftstream City.

"Then how do you explain those drinks?" Roland asked, his face dark. He didn't want the Allied forces to turn out to be a bunch of drunkards when something unexpected happened.

“Oh! You know our situation. Expecting dwarves to fight without the stimulation of alcohol is simply asking the impossible.” Balin shrugged.

"..." Roland was speechless. Indeed, when you encounter a group of people who are addicted to alcohol and drink like water, there's really nothing you can do.

(End of this chapter)