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

Chapter 230 The Emerging Town

"So now, can anyone tell me... where are we?" Roland was at his wit's end.

“Ahem, Your Highness, how about this: let’s set up camp and rest for a while, then have the rangers scout ahead and find the Anduin River first, and the rest will be easier to find,” Omske comforted him.

"That's the only way..." Roland and Balin exchanged a glance and nodded helplessly.

"Listen to me, thank you..." Roland glanced at Caslo, who was trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, and couldn't help but kick him.

“Um… I have a question… He should be a dragon rider, right… His dragon should be able to fly, right… Why not let him fly up and take a look?” Suddenly a timid voice came, and everyone turned around to see that it was the Smurf dragon, who had the lowest presence along the way.

"So... why don't you let the dragon knights who rule the sky... go and take a look?" Seeing the Smurfs' eyes looking at them like they were idiots, Roland, Omske, Caslo, Balin and the others were all petrified on the spot.

"Not much damage, but extremely humiliating..." A sudden, suicidal thought popped into Roland's mind.

"What are you standing there for? Go find the way!" Omske kicked Caslo in the butt, who was standing there dumbfounded, and said angrily. Listening to this elf dragon's words, they all seemed like idiots...

"We must have been looked down upon by a dragon, right? Wasn't her tone contemptuous just now?" Balin asked incredulously, his eyes wide like copper bells.

"Don't be impulsive! Lord Balin is a dragon, you can't beat him..." Roland didn't mention that the Smurf was restricted by Yunfeng. He was really afraid that Balin, in a fit of rage, would kill this dragon with maxed-out taunt skills.

"Uh, I'll go take a look first, I'll be back soon..." The extremely embarrassed Dragon Knight General Caslo wished he could dig a three-bedroom, two-living room, two-bathroom house out of his toes, and immediately made a run for it when he saw the opportunity.

Amidst the melodious sound of the dragon flute, the wind dragon Kaldor let out a loud roar that pierced the air. Caslo scrambled onto the dragon saddle and soared straight into the sky!
……

“Your Highness, we’ve run south… If we keep going, we’ll reach the Graton Plains…” Caslow said, sweating profusely.

"Well done, navigator!" Roland couldn't help but praise.

“So now we have two paths to take… According to the map, we can head south to the Graton Plains, cross the Anduin River to reach Loninggralon, then head straight for the Dingriel Valley to reach Mirror Lake, and then we can continue our own battle for Azanubich!” Omske said, glancing at the dwarves who were trembling with excitement.

"Sigh... what about the other one?" Roland glanced at Balin, noticing his eyes brimming with tears. Indeed, for Balin, a survivor of the Battle of Azanubicha, that battle was an unbearable nightmare and source of immense pain... Pain! So much pain! Heart-wrenching pain! In that battle, they lost nearly half their people, and two kings...

"The other option is to return to our original plan at the Karl Rock Ferry! We'll cross the Misty Mountains along the same route we came from! We'll attack the western gate of Moria! We'll have a greater advantage there! After all, we might get help from the entire western world! We'll be better able to obtain supplies and resources. If we attack the eastern gate, we can only try our luck with the Noldor elves in the Golden Forest and gamble on whether they're willing to help the dwarves reclaim Moria."

“You mean Rorian? Queen Galadriel is a wise queen! She will understand the benefits! Once the elves of the Golden Forest join the war, our chances of victory will be even greater!” Roland nodded excitedly. He believed that Queen Galadriel would not be so short-sighted. Darkness had already descended upon Middle-earth, and the dwarves' attack would be of no benefit to them.

"No! We don't need the elves' help! They're unreliable! They're not going to help us rebuild our homeland!" The usually wise Balin was acting out of character, resolutely refusing.

“Why? Not all elves are like Thranduil… In fact, there are elves like Iovia who are willing to fight alongside us!” Roland asked, puzzled.

"..." After a moment of silence, Balin finally spoke. "None of us want elves to participate in this battle to reclaim Moria. Their betrayal hurt us back then... This is a place of sorrow for us dwarves... Elves are not welcome here!" Balin raised his tearful eyes and said firmly.

“…I understand.” Roland nodded and sighed.

He could understand Thranduil's predicament. Thranduil was actually the only Elvenking at the end of the Third Age; the others, whether Elrond, known as King Elrond, or Éovia, the Star Elves, were strictly speaking only lords of their respective regions! Only Thranduil was recognized by the world as the King of the Woodland Kingdoms! His consideration for the lives of his men made it difficult to say who was right and who was wrong…

"Alright then, let's head north! To Karl Rock Ferry! Our target: West Gate of Moria!" Roland slammed his fist heavily onto the map, the landing point being precisely the West Gate of Moria!
"Caslo! Heaven is watching! If you lead us astray again this time... I'll fucking kill you!" Roland brandished the Dragon Slayer Sword in his hand threateningly, making Caslo tremble and feel a chill run down his spine.

"Of course, Your Majesty, how could you possibly make a mistake again! Trust me, there will be absolutely no problem this time!" Caslo hurriedly replied, wiping non-existent cold sweat from his forehead, looking as humble as could be.

"Hmm, I hope so!" Roland snorted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

……

“Your Highness… Your Highness… It really wasn’t my fault! I’m not taking the blame for this! I clearly followed the map… Who knew there would be a city here?” Caslo said with a bitter face, staring at the wall-like buildings on the horizon. He could already see the “killing intent” flashing in Roland’s eyes.

"Come on! Explain to me what this conjured city is? Fine! It might not be a city, but it's definitely a small town, right? Come on! Tell me! When we came in the fall, was there a small town at Carl Rock Ferry? Was there?" Roland could no longer contain his emotions. This guy, a perfectly normal dragon knight general, could become completely directionally challenged even with a map in hand?

“Impossible! I followed the path along the Anduin River! There’s absolutely no way I could have made a mistake!” Caslo exclaimed, bewildered by the sudden appearance of this small town.

“Baron Lance only returned recently, and he didn’t mention any town here! You’re telling me this is Carl Rock Ferry?” Roland said speechlessly.

“Cough cough cough… Your Highness Roland… Is there a possibility… I mean a possibility… that this is the Carl Rock Ferry?” Oli suddenly chimed in weakly.

"Ok?"

"Ahem, Your Highness, try it out. The environment here might indeed be, perhaps, maybe, the Karl Rock Ferry..." Balin chuckled awkwardly and pointed ahead.

Amidst the misty, steamy air of the Andoin River, a giant, hill-like rock appears and disappears in the middle of the river – this is the landmark of the Karl Rock Ferry – Karl Rock!

"Holy crap! Where did that town come from?" This time it was Roland's turn to be so shocked that he jumped up on the spot. "Jumping three zhang high" was really just an adjective at this moment.

“It seems the area has regained some of its former vibrancy. Well… places with druids stationed here are indeed safer than other parts of the wasteland. It’s not surprising that people struggling to survive would gather here and establish a town,” Omske analyzed, rubbing his chin.

“Let’s go take a look…” Roland said to the group, looking at the town in astonishment.

(End of this chapter)