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

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" The Royal Guards, shielded by their towers, stepped over the fallen Dovenian heavy swordsmen and rammed into the charging orcs and goblins. Instantly, a bloody scene unfolded. These Royal Guards, wielding swords and shields (in close combat, the Royal Guards would discard their spears and replace them with longswords), were like hedgehogs, smashing any orc or goblin who dared to cross the line into a bloody mess.

"Awooo!" Stimulated by the blood and trauma, the giant ogre scrambled to its feet, its head spinning. It swung its warhammer and smashed it down on the Royal Guards who had just arrived.

"Bang!" Seeing that things were not going well, the Royal Guards tilted their shields and slammed them into the ground to hold them back.

With a loud "Boom!", the giant ogre's warhammer was now reduced to just the handle. The ironwood-mixed hammerhead shattered upon impact, sending wood chips flying.

"Pfft!" The royal guard behind the shield was also in bad shape, and he involuntarily spat out a mouthful of blood. It was clear that the giant ogre's attack had caused him internal injuries.

"Kill!" Several royal guards rushed forward, their longswords glowing with various colors of battle aura, leaving deep, bone-revealing wounds on the giant ogre's body as easily as hot knives cutting through butter.

"Heavy Slash!" The War Aura Flame flashed brilliantly as a Royal Guard raised his longsword high above his head. As the skill was activated, the War Aura Flame extended several meters along the tip of the sword.

"Awooo!" The sword light flashed and disappeared in an instant. The giant ogre blinked its beady eyes and then realized that one of its legs was gone.

"Boom!" Like a mountain of gold and a pillar of jade collapsing, the giant ogre's massive body crashed to the ground.

The Royal Guards were not averse to beating a drowning dog. With a dozen swords and spears thrusting wildly, the poor ogre now had countless holes ripped into its forehead, and foul-smelling blood and brain matter splattered everywhere...

"Get lost!" Roland swept the top of an orc's head off with a single sword strike, then kicked the orc who tried to pounce on him away. Didn't he even know his own status? Daring to challenge him? Who was Roland? A third-tier paladin might not be incredibly powerful, but he wasn't someone a nobody like him dared to mess with!

"Damn it!" After slashing down several orcs and goblins, Roland cursed helplessly as he looked at the arms and legs hanging on his body. Although most orcs and goblins couldn't do anything to these iron cans of the allied forces, they could still annoy you!

Roland felt nauseous as he smelled the orc blood seeping through the gaps in his helmet. He could vomit up anything, not even last year's New Year's Eve dinner...

"Bang!" Another goblin, oblivious to his own mortality, pounced on Roland. Putting aside race and background, just looking at this goblin's adorable way of returning to its nest, anyone who didn't know better would think Roland was a pervert. A goblin throwing itself into Roland's arms, is that even acceptable?
"Damn it! Crack!" Roland angrily grabbed the goblin that was clinging to him tightly and slammed its head against the stone floor. All the muscles in his body tensed up instantly! With the help of his battle aura, the goblin's head exploded like a white-skinned, green-fleshed watermelon.

"Ugh!" Roland couldn't help but gag. He'd been careless! He hadn't dodged! A clump of brain matter splattered onto his face... These were Roland's last thoughts.

"Ugh..." Roland yanked off his helmet and vomited violently. It was so disgusting! He'd never felt this nauseous even during the Battle of Lonely Mountain! Roland had always been a knight charging on horseback; this was his first time participating in such brutal hand-to-hand combat, and the first time he'd had his face covered in brains. "Damn it!" Roland wiped his face with his blood-stained hands, then looked down at his hands...

"??? Ugh! Ugh~" Roland collapsed to the ground again...

"Your Highness? Your Highness!" Caslo, caught in the midst of battle, instinctively turned his head. He had to keep a close eye on Roland's condition—this was Grand Duke Nyx's instruction and his duty. But instead of checking, he saw... Holy crap! Where is my king? Where is my king, my very, very important king?
"Where is the king?" Caslo, like a bull in heat, barked wildly at Omsk, who was locked in fierce combat, and demanded an answer.

“???” Omsk.

"Where is the king?" Omsk turned his head and looked around, but Roland was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it! I'm asking you! Where's the king you're looking at? Where's His Highness!" Caslo grabbed Omske's neck guard. Having been around Roland all the time, he had also learned Roland's love for a certain plant and was now expressing it.

“I’m asking you the same question! Aren’t you a guard? Where’s the person you’re looking at? Such a big, living person!” Omske panicked as well.

"Cease fighting! Cease fighting! Find His Highness! All Lagrange soldiers, listen to my command! Find His Highness!" Kaslow saw that Omske looked bewildered and didn't bother with him, but instead shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Cease fighting! Cease fighting! Hold the line! Search for His Highness!" Omsk shouted. Damn it! What if something happens to His Highness... Omsk shuddered and dared not think any further.

……

Roland was lying on the chaotic battlefield, barely managing to calm his churning stomach. As he tried to stand, searching for his helmet and looking around, his heart skipped a beat. He was lying on a pile of corpses; the ground was covered with a dense layer of goblin and orc bodies. These corpses had been trampled by Lagrang's iron cans during the chaos of battle—the scene was truly... well, let's just say it's pretty much R-rated. All Roland could think was, "Thank you!" Then, amidst the pungent stench, he lowered his head again and found a slightly cleaner spot to vomit his bile...

……

"What's wrong? What happened to King Roland and his men?" Balin asked, looking at the restless human army. For some reason, he had a bad feeling. He noticed that the Lagrang soldiers, who had been advancing with unstoppable momentum and were even more ferocious than the dwarves, had suddenly started to defend. They stopped advancing and even retreated, which exposed the dwarves' flanks and made the dwarves look rather foolish...

"Oli! Oyin! Floyd! You stay here and take command! A few men, come with me to see what's going on!" Balin said hurriedly. What could have happened to stop the human army from advancing? No way? No way? Surely we can't be that unlucky? Balin had a bad feeling. The only thing that could stop an army from advancing besides external forces was internal factors. As for external forces, it wasn't that Balin looked down on these small fry—if it were the orcs of Gangbada Fortress, Balin might have thought highly of them—but these Moria rabble… So, it could only be internal factors. The only thing that could cause such a commotion was a problem with the commander… What happened to King Roland?