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

Chapter 32 In the Name of Lagrange! Long live!
"Alright! What a bunch of idiots..." Roland couldn't help but kick a couple of soldiers who were staring at the piles of supplies with shining eyes.

To his shame, because of the pitiful conditions in Swiftstream City, Renault and Caslo couldn't find a suitable warehouse to store the supplies, so they decided to store them in the lord's castle. As a result, Roland watched in astonishment as his already cramped castle was filled with 20 carts of supplies... Roland couldn't say anything in front of the dwarves, so he could only watch the busy crowd with a forced smile.

"So you're not going to give me an explanation?" Roland laughed as he watched Renault and Caslo prepare to slip away.

"My lord, you've misunderstood..." Seeing Roland Caslo's smile, the hairs on his body stood on end.

"Um, Your Majesty, please let me explain..." Renault stammered.

"Misunderstanding? Explanation? They won't even leave me a place to sleep! Misunderstanding! Explanation!" Thus, the famous scene of Roland chasing Renault and Caslo with a ham in hand unfolded. The powerful ham was as reliable as a dragon-slaying sword, easily smashing the two of them until they saw stars.

"Hehe, Grandpa Radil, why do you think the King is chasing Lord Renault and Lord Caslo?" Ivy asked the war mage Radil, who was sitting in the sun and relaxing, while watching the three running through the city.

"Perhaps it's because they forgot to leave a bed for the king..." Radil's old face was wrinkled like a blooming chrysanthemum, and he chuckled softly.

“It’s really good to be young and energetic!” Radil felt a pang of envy as he watched the group chasing after him. At his age, he rarely engaged in strenuous exercise; his advanced magic was enough to take him around the world instead of his own two legs.

"Hmm?" Radil unleashed his immense mental power. A dozen kilometers away, the thirty or so refugees who had just been spawned by the system were facing a hunt by a group of hungry orcs. Radil's expression hardened, and his massive magical power surged. With a whoosh, he disappeared from Ivy's side.

"Huh? That's Blink!" Ivy looked enviously at the spot where Radil had been sitting. As a third-tier priest, she didn't know this high-level Blink spell.

(Blink is a basic spell for spellcasters, allowing them to teleport anywhere from ten to several hundred meters depending on their magic power level. Flash is an advanced spell of Blink, allowing them to teleport over a kilometer.)
"God! Who will save us?" The women and children, surrounded by a dozen strong men, cried out, covering their faces. They had thought they would be bathed in the glory of Lagrange again, but they never expected to be targeted by a group of orcs.

"Whoosh!" Among this group of refugees were actually a few hunters wielding hunting bows. Their relatively accurate archery skills allowed them to stand in confrontation with the orcs. Because they were an orc tribe from the wasteland, their size and equipment were far inferior to the orc kingdom army led by Azog. Therefore, the two sides were still able to stand their ground. The other men picked up their wooden sticks and formed a circle around the orcs, protecting the women and children inside.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!" Suddenly, clusters of rock spikes emerged from beneath the orcs' feet, instantly turning dozens of orcs into blood gourds.

"Ah!" The sudden massacre terrified the women and children.

"Hey, hey, hey! Are all the Lagrange survivors this cowardly these days?" Radil walked out with a smile, leaning on his staff.

"Master Mage!" The men, regaining their senses, quickly bowed. After all, the other party was a noble master mage who had saved their lives, and they deserved the utmost respect.

“No need for formalities. You’ve also come to seek refuge with the last King Lagrange, haven’t you?” Radil confirmed again, glancing at the homemade dragon banner they were carrying.

“Yes, sir, we have been guided by God to seek the last glory of Lagrange…” the leader of the hunters said humbly.

"Well, it's just a few kilometers further in this direction. There's no danger along the way, so you can walk without worry." Radil smiled and vanished in a flash. The old man's legs weren't good; he couldn't possibly accompany this group on foot. That would take forever. Besides, why walk when you have magic? It's a pity he wasn't a space mage, otherwise, a long-distance teleportation would have saved the refugees from having to travel. ...

"Bang bang bang!" The dull sound of steel armor clashing rang out as a hundred tin cans silently walked across the wasteland. Guided by the gods, they had come to seek refuge with their last king. These were the guards of Lagrange City summoned by Roland, and they were steadily advancing towards Swiftstream City along the route taken by the refugees.

"Whoosh!" The leading city guard suddenly raised his hand, and the soldiers behind him immediately formed a circular formation. They stood shoulder to shoulder, their shields pressed tightly together to form a half-body shield wall, with only their heads and calves exposed. Their sharp steel spears pointed straight at the barren wasteland where the grass had withered.

"Orcs! They just died recently! The one who killed them was an earth mage! At least a second-tier mage!" Several scouts returned.

"We need to leave quickly. Judging from these orc totems, they must be a tribe from the wasteland. Soon, orcs will come looking for their missing members," the leading warrior analyzed.

"It seems there are civilians here too!" The observant city guards found several rough wooden arrows on the orc's corpse. These were clearly not arrows used by the army, but rather hunters' bows.

"This is troublesome. There are civilians ahead... We can't just leave. They're probably on their way to follow the king, just like us... We can't leave the civilians to the orcs." The city guards were starting to worry. They weren't good at tracking, and they weren't sure which direction the civilians were going. If the civilians planned to take a detour to Swiftstream City, the orcs, who were good at tracking, might bypass them and attack the civilians. With just one mage and a few hunters guarding them, they might not be able to protect everyone.

"Then what do we do?" The other city guards had no good ideas either; they didn't know how the civilians had left.

"We'll stay! We'll hold off the orcs! How could a mere orc tribe in the wasteland possibly shake us!" The Lagrange City guards were filled with righteous indignation. Yes! They were once the glorious guardians of the Lagrange Empire's capital, protecting the people, their homes, and the empire! What they were doing now was simply their duty.

"In the name of Lagrange! Long live!" The guards of Lagrange were giving their final pre-battle pep talk.

"Form a circle, we'll wait for them here." One hundred city guards quickly formed a circle on a small earthen mound. They knelt on the ground so that their shields could cover their entire bodies, and their crossbows were held horizontally.

After an unknown amount of time, the grass in the distance suddenly began to sway, and the ugly head of the orc was faintly visible in the withered grass.

"Launch!" Seeing the orcs burst out of the grass and exposed to the crowd, everyone pulled the triggers on their crossbows.

……

"Huh? A small squad of Lagrange City Guards?" Radil, who had just been basking in the sun for a while, suddenly sensed the city guards fighting with the orcs.

"Forget it, I won't get involved. The guards of Lagrange City could easily take down these wasteland orcs even with their eyes closed." Old Master Radil indicated that he was not making excuses for being lazy; it was simply because they were very strong and did not need his help.

Brothers, let's boost our votes! We've been running low on votes lately.
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(End of this chapter)