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

Chapter 83 In the Name of King Lagrange! Slash!
"Stabilize the formation! The elves are coming to our aid!" Lance noticed the elven army advancing from behind and quickly rallied the troops. Although the well-trained Swift Infantry could maintain their fighting spirit even in dire circumstances, the encouragement of hope could ignite their fervor.

"Kill!" The Swift Infantry swung their weapons wildly, turning tower shields into bricks in their hands, smashing and ramming them! The shields were a bloody mess. Most of the elite Swift Infantry at the front had lost their chevaux-de-frise; countless had been broken in the intense fighting. Now, they desperately wielded their durable maces, searching for orc heads. With a cracking sound, orcs were constantly surrounded, killed, and dismembered by the fanatical Swift Infantry…

"kill!"

"Ding Dong!"

"boom!"

On the chaotic battlefield, the orderly ranks of the Swift Infantry resembled an inexhaustible torrent, crashing against the orc army again and again.

"After this battle, the Swift Stream Infantry will probably be crippled..." Roland sighed regretfully, feeling sorrow for the loss of his men... The sight of the blue-armored corpses lying on the ground deeply pained Roland's heart!
Closer, closer! The Holy Knights are less than a kilometer away from the orc army. The heavy sound of hooves can be faintly heard, and the ground trembles. Countless orcs look around in panic.

"For the glory of knights! In the name of King Lagrange! Charge!" Roland raised his lance.

Beams of light flashed across the knights, and a series of status skills, such as Glory and Mercy, were applied to them. The knights, fueled by boundless rage, launched their charge!
Lagrange knights, clad in three layers of armor, crouched low on their steeds. The steel-forged Lagrange standard knightly plate armor gleamed brilliantly in the snow. The large knight's shield held taut in their left hands, wreathed in battle aura, provided a sense of security. Their right hands held high, their lances flashing coldly, a meter-long blade of light protruding from the hexagonal, threaded tip. With each galloping hoofbeat, the battle aura on the lance tip tore through the passing cold wind. The dragon-emblazoned cloaks on their backs fluttered wildly, the blood-red cloaks seeming to foreshadow impending death…

"The Knights..." the orc screamed in terror, like a frightened woman, a sound that could shatter armor.

"Boom!" The iron hooves easily overwhelmed the orcs who tried to resist. How could the orcs, who had hastily assembled into a thin formation under the command of their commanders, possibly stop the charge of the well-formed knight order?

Not every unit is called a Swift Infantry!

Roland casually tossed the two corpses hanging from his gun away; the still-warm bodies quickly turned cold. Roland raised his head and looked around as if searching for something.

"Holy Knights, listen to my command! Turn left! Target: the pale orc! Kill!" Roland's eyes turned red as he watched the pale orc king riding a white dire wolf in the distance still trying to stop the allied forces in a desperate resistance!

"You'll have to make up for this loss!" Roland thought viciously.

As long as Azog is killed and the 100 heavy cavalry are obtained, this operation will not be a loss, because with proper training, the heavy cavalry should be able to add more than ten knights to Roland's ranks. This is a fatal attraction for Roland, who currently lacks a proper source of knight training. The number of Holy Light Knights is too embarrassing, barely meeting the minimum standard for a knightly order. If two or more knights are unfortunately killed... Roland's biggest trump card, the Holy Light Knights, will be completely useless. Therefore, Roland urgently needs to increase the number of his knights.

……

"Chase them! Catch them! Don't let them form a battle line again!" Iovia shouted.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!" A volley of arrows drew Iovia's attention. Her keen senses immediately recognized the arrows as coming from elven bows. The Star Elf army was too exhausted to draw their bows again; the bloodied, mangled fingers of the rangers and archers spoke volumes about the extent of their depletion. Maintaining contact with the orcs was the best they could do. Countless elven rangers and archers, their arms trembling, wielded exquisite daggers and scimitars, their blades flashing as they took the lives of orcs one by one…

It was only then that Iovia realized that the elves shooting were none other than the grassland elves led by Verwy. One by one, the agile grassland elf rangers ran and jumped, constantly firing their bows to save one elf and human after another from the orcs' dying counterattack.

"Elven King? Which elven king are you?" Iovia sensed the familiar aura emanating from Valvey, the oppressive aura of a sixth-tier hunter leading Iovia to mistakenly believe Valvey was the elven king of some other elven kingdom. (Although elves have long lifespans, top-tier powerhouses are rare, but the combat strength of mid-level professionals is immense. Typically, an elven kingdom only has its king, priests, and a few elders at the sixth tier—a number slightly less than dwarves, but far fewer than humans.)
“Greetings, Your Excellency Star Elf King. I am a grassland elf, not a king. The crown of thorns on my head is merely for decoration.” Knowing that Iovia had misunderstood him, Verway smiled and explained as he looked at Iovia, who was also wearing a crown of thorns.

"Uh... grassland elves? Sorry!" Iovia realized his slip of the tongue and quickly apologized. No one knew the past of the grassland elves better than him. After the fall of the Gondolin Kingdom, some of these survivors chose to wander the wasteland, and from then on, they lost the protection of the Magic Well...

"It's nothing, we're used to it," Verway said calmly, casually slashing down a passing orc who was panicking and running for his life.

"How did you end up here?" Iovia asked curiously. The grassland elves' instinct to seek good fortune and avoid danger was renowned among the elves. Otherwise, these elves, whose power had been severely depleted, would have long since disappeared into history. They wouldn't be able to live a relatively comfortable life as scattered tribes in the wilderness like they are now.

"I just happened to be caught here by you guys." Verway sighed as he explained while chopping people down, dodging the spinning throwing axe.

"I'm sorry..." Iovia instantly understood what was going on; it turned out that the person had wandered here and happened to be caught up in the war, forcing them to stay.

“You can choose to leave before this battle…” Iovia said.

“I promised King Roland that I would participate in this war, and he will help us establish a kingdom inhabited by grassland elves.” A look of anticipation appeared in Verway’s eyes.

Iovia felt a pang of sadness. Had the great and noble Elven race now needed human help even to establish a nation? A bitter feeling instantly overwhelmed Iovia; he clearly sensed that an era of human dominance over Middle-earth was about to begin…

……

"Azog! Die!" Roland roared as he led the Holy Light Knights toward Azog. He had already discarded his lance, and his sharp Dragon Slayer Sword surged with battle aura like a dragon coiling around it.

"In the name of King Lagrange! Slash!" Roland roared as he brought down the Dragon Slayer Sword he had raised high.

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(End of this chapter)