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

Chapter 225 The Great Wall Re-equipped
"Crackling!" The fire cast a soft glow, warming the tents around it. Many of the vigilant dwarves were shivering and their noses were running. Every now and then, someone would raise the flask at their waist and take a big gulp. Everyone was staring wide-eyed, searching. After all, those terrifying troll spearmen could easily send unsuspecting heavy armored troops to the Eternal Land. The great King Roland almost proved this with his own life.

"Will they come?" Ouli wiped his nose and turned to look at Ouyin beside him.

"Who knows? But judging from how seriously King Roland's men are taking this, it can't be just a rumor!" Floyd leaned over, unscrewed the flask at his waist, and poured the warm dwarven liquor into his mouth.

……

"Dragon God! Is it okay for them to drink like this?" A few Lordaeron rangers sitting on the treetops on lookout duty asked helplessly after smelling the aroma of alcohol wafting from the camp.

"God knows, I just hope they can swing their battle axes later..." A ranger rubbed his reddened nose.

"Alright, silence! Be on guard! We're not here to chat! Keep a close eye on our surroundings, it's already past midnight! The trolls should be making their move soon!" The captain of the ranger team said in a deep voice.

The group of people who had been chatting and joking suddenly fell silent. They were the outermost and most important line of defense in the camp.

……

"Why aren't you resting, sir?" Seeing that Roland was still awake in the middle of the night, Caslo couldn't help but poke at the embers in the brazier and ask.

"Damn it! If those bastards hit you, you'd know! I don't want to rest, do I? I'm in pain!" Roland cursed under his breath.

“Ah! That’s a real shame, I’ve never had such an experience…” Caslo said blankly, looking a little too honest.

"I really..." Roland was speechless. Although Caslow's words seemed to make no problem, why did they sound so suffocating to him? It seemed to be full of sarcasm hidden in them?
With a whoosh, the curtain was lifted, and Omsk walked in, leaning on his sword.

"Hey! Brave boy, come here to warm yourself by the fire and ward off the chill. How about it? Haven't our guests arrived yet?" Roland teased, the low night temperature having already left a thin layer of frost on Omske's armor.

“Your Highness, you jest… but those black-skinned creatures still haven’t made a move.” Omske shook his head and sat down by the brazier.

"Tell our men to be on high alert, but also to keep warm, it gets quite cold at night!" Roland said, looking at Omsk's armor.

"Your Highness, please rest assured, I have already given the order." Omske nodded in acknowledgment.

"It's almost midnight, and those trolls still haven't made a move? Are they not coming?" Caslo scratched his head and yawned.

"Heh, I actually hope they come soon, so we can finish this quickly and have some peace and quiet. Otherwise, we'll be living in constant fear the rest of the way." Omske frowned. Compared to the trolls swarming in to attack, he was more worried about their guerrilla harassment. If that were to happen, he should consider advising Prince Roland to withdraw his troops and return home. After all, the Kingdom of Lagrang didn't have enough lives to fill this bottomless "pit."

“Indeed, compared to the spears right in front of us, the arrows hidden in the shadows are much harder to defend against!” Roland nodded.

"Just wait, there will be a result!" Caslo stoked the fire, wrapped himself in a blanket, and leaned against the side.

……

"Shh~" The swaying bushes in the forest caught the attention of a Lordaeron ranger crouching on a treetop.

"What's that?" The ranger, noticing the anomaly, squinted, trying to make out what it was, while his longbow unconsciously began to draw. "Squeak~" The sickening sound of the bowstring being pulled was clearly audible in the quiet night.

"Bang!" With the trembling of the bowstring, a steel arrow whistled and plunged into the depths of the forest.

"Agh!" A deep, mournful roar suddenly rang out, clearly indicating that the arrow had struck something.

"Enemy attack! Damn it! They're here! Be on guard!" the Lordaeron ranger on guard shouted hoarsely, then, as if remembering something, quickly swung away from the tree by stepping on the branches.

"Thud! Thud! Thud!" A series of wooden spears slammed into the tree trunk. It was clear that if the ranger hadn't left, he would be a specimen nailed to the tree by now... (No way! No way! Does anyone really believe that a ranger's leather and chainmail armor could withstand such powerful spear throws?)
"Damn it! They're here! Counterattack! Shoot them down!" One by one, the squad leaders of the Lordaeron rangers stepped forward, leading their men in a desperate attempt to snipe at the surging trolls. But it was clear that outnumbered and outmatched, they could only slow down the trolls' advance.

"The camp should have received the message by now! Our mission is complete! Brothers, retreat!" The ranger squad leader shouted to his men as he looked at the surging "troll tide".

……

"Oh my god! I just closed my eyes! What happened?" Roland, who had just fallen asleep, was suddenly lifted up! That's right! He was lifted up, and then, as Roland tried to open his sleepy eyes, something was frantically put on him. By touch, Roland could roughly feel that it was armor...

"Your Highness! The trolls are attacking! The Lordaeron rangers are holding them off on the outskirts, but they are far stronger than you and shouldn't be able to hold them off for long. Omske and I have to go set up defenses! Take care of yourselves, Your Highness!" Kaslo lifted the tent flap, and a gust of cold wind rushed in. Roland couldn't help but shiver as his consciousness slowly returned to his body.

"Trolls are here? Dragon God! Quick! Put on the armor for me!" Roland instantly snapped to attention, grabbed the plate armor the servants were fiddling with, and put it on at a speed that left everyone speechless.

"Oh my god! Look! Look! The great King Lagrange! That armor-wearing speed is comparable to that of a purple lightning dragon, are you that afraid of dying?" The elf dragon raised its head and said lazily.

"Get lost! You block my way, I don't have any dragon scales on me!" After kicking aside the blue elf blocking his path, Roland grabbed the Aegis Eliar and the Dragon Slayer Sword and charged out.

"Tch! Trolls? What kind of intimidation do those ants have? Look at your terrified faces..." The Smurf with arrogance written all over his face flapped his wings in dissatisfaction and flew to Roland's hammock, closing his dragon eyes again.

……

"How is the situation?" Roland, whose face was somewhat pale, came to the front of the battle.

"King Roland, thank you for your trouble!" Balin sighed.

“It’s alright! We’ll have to get rid of these things sooner or later.” Roland shook his head.

“Here’s the situation: alarms are sounding all around; it looks like they’re planning to besiege us! I’ve already got everyone out to defend. The front gate of the camp is guarded by the Royal Guards, and the back is handled by the Dovenian heavy swordsmen and city guards. Trust me, those lousy wooden spears will never be able to break through the Dovenian heavy swordsmen’s defenses, and the city guards will use their crossbows and javelins to show what the price will be. The left and right flanks are defended by the dwarves and the retreating rangers. I believe they can handle all of this,” Omske quickly explained to Roland.

"Your Excellency Balin! Do you have any objections?" Roland asked, turning his head.

“Of course not, your subordinates have made excellent arrangements,” Bahrain agreed.

"That's settled then! We'll meet them here!" Looking at the human wall of heavily armored soldiers, Roland felt a surge of pride. Trolls? What kind of nobodies were they!
Haha, family, I'm back! Although I've been on hiatus for a long time, I'm not going to abandon this project.

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(End of this chapter)