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

Chapter 233 The Hidden Dangers Revealed

"Ever since the entire North gathered 6000 elite cavalrymen and marched south, the North has been in a state of decline. Disaster has never left this place. All we can do is endure hardship and survive, for ourselves and for our families! The Vale was once a rare place of stability for humans in the North. The thriving city-states, under the leadership of their lords, engaged in trade... Caravans used to continuously cross the ferry and enter the Old Forest Road to the foot of Lonely Mountain... Unfortunately, the wealth of the dwarves eventually attracted the covetousness of the dragon Smaug... The last refuge of the North collapsed..." Bion murmured to himself, poking at the embers.

"Can you lead the human race to regain its footing in the north?" Bion suddenly raised his head and asked seriously.

“Establishing a nation in the north…this is not a good choice. Orcs, barbarians, monsters, disasters—all the evils and horrors you can imagine want to kill you!” Bion lowered his head again before Roland could answer.

"I..." Roland wanted to say something.

“Through the guidance of nature, I have glimpsed fragments of the future. Perhaps you will achieve great things, or perhaps you will be buried in the north… Rest well. I hope you can leave this place tomorrow and not disturb our hard-won peaceful life.” Bion stood up and staggered away.

“Omske, what does he mean?” Roland asked, puzzled.

“Perhaps this druid foresaw the future and saw some fragments…” Omske thought for a moment and finally explained to Roland.

“No, I meant the last sentence,” Roland said.

"Um... who's going to fight? Prophecies are inherently two-sided. Who knows if they're accurate? Until the event happens, no one knows if the prophecy is right or wrong." Omske shrugged nonchalantly. After all, a combatant isn't like a spellcaster who believes in all sorts of ghosts and gods; they only believe in the weapons in their hands and their combat skills.

"I hope so, but perhaps I'm being too pessimistic," Roland shook his head.

"Don't be pessimistic. Although the environment here is harsh and resources are scarce, nothing can stop us from pursuing our ideals!" Omske comforted him.

“Yes, Your Highness Roland, our Longbeard Clan has wandered for so many years. Who would have thought that we could reclaim Lonely Mountain with just a dozen or so men? Even bards would think it’s absurd! But now the banner of the Longbeard Clan flies over Irubb once more! We have returned to Lonely Mountain! The kingdom below has once again welcomed back its king.” Balin smiled amicably. He, too, had once felt as lost as Roland, but some things still needed to be done by certain people; it was their responsibility.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown! You have a group of brave and loyal subordinates, which makes things much smoother for you than when Thorin started his business! Hahaha!” Balin pointed to the crown on Roland’s head and then laughed loudly. “I was too pessimistic. You’re right…” Roland nodded. He had to admit that he was shocked by Bion’s description of the current situation in the North. He hadn’t expected that life for humans in the seemingly peaceful North was so miserable. Roland should have thought of this long ago. Why hadn’t a human kingdom appeared in the North? From beginning to end, only King Bard’s lineage had held out in Vale, and Vale was at most a viscountry, far from meeting the minimum standards of a kingdom.

"The restoration of the North is a long and arduous task. Darkness has descended, and the calamity of Middle-earth will begin once again." Balin sighed, his eyes incredibly profound.

"Sigh, don't think about that anymore. I'm having a bit of a headache about the Moria Mine now... I feel like this trip was a bit rushed." Roland said, looking troubled.

"???" Balin's mouth dropped open as if he had seen something unbelievable.

"Your Highness, we've come this far, you're not going to turn back now, are you..." Balin was instantly terrified by Roland's expression. Balin could easily reclaim Moria; the orcs there were a piece of cake for dwarves, a race with a 200% advantage in mine warfare. But the Balrog lurking deep within was a different story. A dwarf without even a sixth-tier overlord was no match for such high-level combat power. Roland was Balin's only lifeline. Although he could avoid entering the mines as in history, who wanted a ticking time bomb in their own backyard?

"No, no, no, don't get agitated, Bahrain. I don't mean to turn back. I'm just thinking that you haven't been back for so many years, and I'm afraid this attack might be a bit troublesome..." Roland rubbed his chin. His arrival had already changed the history of Middle-earth. Would the butterfly effect bring an epic boost to Moria? You know, the power of history to restore itself is very strong!
“We are fearless! We can lead the way for you, I only beg you to deal with the Balrog deep inside… please help us, Your Highness.” Balin choked out, knowing that if King Roland of Lagrange retreated at the crucial moment like Thranduil, the dwarven expeditionary force would truly be doomed!
“Don’t worry, Balin! Our friendship will not change. Don’t worry about us betraying our promise. We never intended to leave. Besides, I need that wealth to improve the lives of the people under my rule.” Roland reassured Balin, but words alone were not enough. Only by telling the dwarves his demands could he convince these stubborn dwarves. Only mutual benefit could unite the two sides and give them a common ground!

"What are your concerns? We go back there like it's home; we know every stone and every step of the stairs!" Balin asked, puzzled.

"So many years have passed, perhaps the terrain inside has already been altered by the orcs... Heh! After all, when it comes to destroying orcs, no one has ever been more impressive!" Roland sneered.

“We don’t have any scouts or even a thief in our ranks, which puts us at a significant disadvantage in intelligence gathering…” Roland shook his head. Even Gandalf had to find a thief for Thorin (though he wasn’t very reliable…), let alone their thousand-strong allied army. They had been relying on the Lordaeron rangers’ familiarity with the forest to gather information, but in the crypts… the Lordaeron rangers couldn’t operate effectively here, since there was no forest for them to roam around in. Roland had only just realized this problem himself. Such a large army didn’t have a single qualified scout. It was only thanks to the rangers’ meticulousness that things hadn’t gone wrong earlier.

"This..." Balin opened his mouth, speechless. As a veteran of many battles, he naturally understood the importance of intelligence. Putting aside everything else, if that Balrog hid and gave them a good beating, Roland and Balin would be devastated. You must know that as the former capital of the dwarves, Caesar'dum is a vast place with many areas large enough for a dragon to glide, let alone hide a Balrog that is much smaller than a dragon.

“You’re right…we’re in trouble.” Balin said, clutching his head in pain. (Why didn’t Balin’s expeditionary force alert the Balrog in the original story? The expeditionary force in the original story only numbered a few dozen people, so how could the commotion they caused be the same as a thousand heavily armored infantrymen now?) He knew with his own eyes that such a large army entering Kezadoom would definitely alert the Balrog.

(End of this chapter)