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

"Speed ​​up!" Balin encouraged the dwarves, waving his hoe.

Roland helped them move the stones they were chiseling, and he found it quite amusing to see the dwarves suddenly transform from powerful, iron-blooded warriors into gold miners who looked like groundhogs.

"Bahrain! How much longer!" Roland couldn't help but exclaim, staring at the thick pile of rubble.

"Almost there! King Roland! Give us 10 minutes! The dwarves will let you stand in the Great Hall of Massabur!" Balin said emphatically.

"Ok!"

……

"Huff huff huff~ How did these two end up fighting like this..." Caslo and Omsk exchanged a glance. It turned out that they were the ones who were exhausted. The two Calamity-level magical beasts had amazing recovery abilities, and the energy in their bodies seemed inexhaustible. In addition, with the healing skills that were essential for home travel and plundering, Caslo and Omsk could only say that the epic battle described as lasting three days and three nights was really a description and not an exaggeration!
"Can you still fight? Go up and hold them off for a bit!" Caslo gasped, using his dragon spear for support.

"I... I can't take it anymore! Why don't you go first!" Omske shook his head, kneeling on one knee, he was also exhausted.

"Your Highness, please come and save us..." Caslo cried out in grief and indignation. He and Omske could only stare blankly at their nearly depleted battle energy and pay their respects to the two Cataclysmic-level combatants who were delivering blows with their bare hands.

Clearly, without human intervention to restrain him, Kaldor was at a significant disadvantage, and his original balanced offense and defense gradually shifted towards a defensive posture.

The wind! Swift and fierce, yet lacking staying power! The strength of wind comes from its instantaneous burst or extreme destructive force in a short time, but in terms of its endurance, it is far inferior to the fire element. Fire can burn fiercely, while wind can only slowly dissipate… The moment he engaged the Balrog in melee combat, Kaldor abandoned his most proficient area—aerial combat and ambush! Although the Wind Dragon lineage excels in melee combat, it is still somewhat inferior to the Balrog, which is also among the top melee fighters. Not to mention the Balrog's seasoned experience and keen perception; in no time, Kaldor was covered in countless wounds.

……

"It's open! Reinforce the entrance!" Balin exclaimed excitedly, and the dwarves who were with him took out planks and nails to fix the entrance in place.

"This... Holy crap! Is this going to collapse?" Roland asked, staring at the low opening that only allowed people to pass by bending over.

"Rest assured, King Roland! The reputation of the Dwarven Industries is as solid as our weapons!" Balin thumped his chest loudly.

"Gulp!" Roland swallowed hard and followed Balin inside with a worried look in his eyes. Only then did Roland realize that the cave entrances dug by these dwarves were modeled after their own physiques! Balin, however, seemed completely unaffected by the dwarfs' imposing gait.

“Massabur Hall!” Bahrain exclaimed, gazing at the magnificent stone archway.

"Stop reminiscing! Hurry up and find Black Arrow! Watch out for attacks from orcs and goblins!" Roland interrupted him, patting him on the shoulder.

"Thud!" A novice ranger from Lordaeron shot and killed a hiding orc.

"Watch out, brothers! There are orcs in here!" the rangers shouted to their companions as they quickly nocked arrows and advanced with the troops.

"One, two, three! Boom!"

"One, two, three! Boom!"

"Boom!" The heavy wooden door collapsed, and a group of dwarves successfully broke open the door of a side hall with a battering ram, allowing the soldiers behind them to quickly file in.

"Enemy! Requesting reinforcements!" A short while later, a dwarf staggered out, covered in blood, shouting at the top of his lungs. "Attack!" A squad of Lagrange City guards nearby heard the dwarf's cry for help and immediately rushed over.

"What's going on?" the squad leader asked.

"There are goblins inside! Lots! At least a hundred! Several of our men are trapped!" the dwarf said breathlessly.

"Lead the way!" The squad leader immediately waved his hand, signaling to attack.

Soon, the fierce guards of Lagrange City surged into the side hall, and a fierce battle erupted. Soon after, the noise subsided, and a team of dwarven and human allies emerged carrying the wounded.

"No Black Arrows found here!" the squad leader shouted, making a mark at the entrance.

"Let's go! Next place!"

……

"I hope nothing bad has happened to them," Caslo said anxiously, staring at the spot where Roland had disappeared.

"Stop thinking nonsense! Focus on recovering your battle aura!" Omske immediately reprimanded. He knew that apart from this Balrog, Roland could do whatever he wanted in Moria with his army!

"Oh!" Caslo shook his head, banishing those thoughts from his mind.

……

"Have you noticed? Our people are counting on that thing to save their lives!" Roland said anxiously.

"King Roland, calm down! We're still searching! The dwarves don't produce many of those! Give them some time!" Balin rubbed his hands together to reassure them, but his heart suddenly tightened... No way! No way! Could it be that Moria has run out of Black Arrows? That shouldn't be the case! Each region should keep some Black Arrows as spares!

Suddenly, Balin froze. He mechanically turned his head toward the Fourth Hall, almost bursting into tears of "emotion." Could it be? Surely not? Had King Nien I shot down all the black arrows? A chill ran down Balin's spine, a shadow falling over his heart.

After an unknown amount of time, Roland, who had been spinning in place, almost polished the floor! Finally, a loud commotion came from afar.

"Found it! Found it!" A Lordaeron ranger ran out quickly, holding a dusty gray object.

"Your Highness! The Black Arrow!" He presented it to Roland as if it were a treasure.

"Just... one?" Roland took the black arrow, brushing the dust off it with his hand, somewhat surprised. The heavy black arrow in his hand radiated the same chilling light as it had a thousand years ago. No creature would want to be shot by this thing. Seeing the black arrow again, Roland's feelings were complicated. He now felt so much like Bard back then! Both of them only had one arrow, yet they had to hunt down a behemoth. But Roland was lucky; he had a finisher to finish it off, giving him two chances!
"One?" Balin's heart eased; at least there was a black arrow! Wait? One? One! What can one black arrow do? Pick the Balrog's teeth?
"Search! Keep searching! There are at least 50 spare arrows in this hall!" Balin roared. A single black arrow posed too little threat to the Balrog...

"Wait! Remember to find the dwarven spear launcher!" Roland hurriedly reminded the soldiers. If they didn't have that thing... was Roland supposed to throw it by hand?
“Your Highness! It’s right here! But I doubt the strings on it are usable anymore!” A soldier pointed to the high platform at the entrance, where the dwarf soldiers used to stand guard.

"Cough cough! As expected, it's unusable!" Roland shook his head in disappointment as he climbed out of the dust, but thankfully, he could fix it on the spot! At this moment, Roland was extremely grateful for the useful odds and ends that the system had given him, such as—a fine and durable bowstring!