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Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 272
🕑 Added 2025-10-14 13:22:36 +0000 UTCChapter 272: Meeting
Old friends gradually faded like autumn leaves in the wind.
Year 2955: Old Vader finally couldn't hold on any longer.
He was eighty years old—quite a long life for an ordinary human in Middle-earth.
In his final moments, Levi stayed at his bedside, talking quietly with him.
They chatted about things that had happened before, about the refugees' long journey from the Anduin to Roadside Keep, about the harsh life outside the walls, and about their amazement when first arriving at Roadside Keep with its impossible wonders.
Both were quite calm, just like any other day they had spent together.
"What I've witnessed and experienced these past years has been more wonderful and rich than all the previous decades combined."
Vader sighed, his breath shallow. "My lord, my only regret is that my mind can no longer stay clear and that my body is gradually decaying and weakening, leaving me unable to help you with anything meaningful."
Seeming to sense his end approaching, Vader continued with visible effort, "A few days ago I went to the school and learned a phrase from the elves. Listen and tell me if I say it well enough:"
"Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya. May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky."
"I heard this is what they say when parting for the last time."
"My beloved lord, I truly wish we could meet again, but I'm afraid I can only say farewell forever."
His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "May all the world's good fortune accompany you."
Vader slowly closed his eyes for the final time.
"I'm very glad to have met you, Vader," Levi spoke softly.
"Goodbye."
The living offered their farewell, while the departed wore a peaceful smile.
Roadside Keep gained a new grave beneath the golden tree.
Levi planted a bright flower before the tomb, kneeling there in silence.
He looked up at that clear azure sky, wondering how long such peaceful days would last.
Year 2956: Following Vader, Taber—Roadside Keep School's first principal—also couldn't hold on.
Levi held Taber's worn notebook, sitting quietly before two graves side by side, flipping through page after page with careful reverence.
As Taber had said, it mostly recorded Roadside Keep's trivial daily matters, plus some conversations with Levi over the years. These everyday moments occupied quite a significant portion. Reading them, Levi felt as if transported back to those simpler times.
Those quiet afternoons sitting together in the library reviewing student assignments, occasionally discussing teaching methods, or joyful feasts during festivals and celebrations.
Including the grand banquet when the Sky Road was completed.
"The lord, Rangers, and elves gazed at the starry sky on walls without lamplight; behind them, brilliant celebration and happy people singing."
So Taber had been watching and recording these moments all along.
When the notebook reached the last page, Levi froze, his hands going still.
"With this, I reflect upon my humble life, commemorating my precious meeting with our beloved lord."
Click.
The notebook closed gently.
Levi held this book against his chest, lying back on the soft grass before the graves.
Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly into the quiet air.
In the same year, in Rhovanion's great wilderness near the edge of the desolate Brown Lands, a vigorous figure galloped through tall grass, chasing several fleeing orcs relentlessly forward.
"Damned stinking Ranger!" the orcs ahead cursed between gasping breaths.
"If you're so capable, keep chasing—ahead is our main camp. Either way, you're dead today!"
The pursuer said nothing, only continuing to move through shrubs and low tree clusters with practiced ease. Sounds came now from the left, now from the right—several orcs couldn't help looking back nervously, made anxious by these phantom movements.
What was terrifying was not the sounds themselves but seeing no one at all, not even knowing if he was still behind them.
Roar!
Just as the orcs nervously ran forward, another kind of bestial roar came from the side.
"Excellent, wargs!" one orc gasped with relief.
The orcs stopped running. Simultaneously, a pack of at least a dozen massive wargs emerged from the tree line, drooling while staring at the space behind the orcs with hungry eyes.
Being watched like this, the low shrubs and grass behind truly went silent.
The wargs growled low at the orcs, their body language clearly asking what the situation was.
The orcs understood their meaning perfectly.
"A stinking Ranger. He killed eight of our companions in the last hour."
The lead warg disdainfully shook its massive head, as if mocking these pathetic orcs.
Being killed eight-to-one by a single Ranger was shameful enough for any orc warband.
It might not even kill eight pigs that fast.
Sensing the wargs' contemptuous expressions, several orcs' faces looked quite ugly. They explained defensively, "You don't know this particular Ranger; he's—"
"Roar!"
A warg's aggressive roar interrupted the orcs' words. One pounced toward the tree clusters with frightening speed, the rest quickly following in a coordinated pack assault.
The orcs froze momentarily, then immediately raised their curved scimitars and charged forward behind the beasts.
Rustle!
A Ranger was forced out into the open, engaging them in desperate combat. One moment using his sword to block snapping warg jaws, the next moment carefully avoiding orc blades seeking his flesh—before long he was covered in sweat, looking quite hard-pressed.
Just as another warg prepared to pounce from behind, this Ranger wondered how to respond to the coordinated attack—
Swoosh!
An arrow suddenly shot over with deadly precision, killing the warg directly before him. The Ranger was freed from that threat, turning sharply to cut down the pouncing warg behind him with a vicious slash.
"He has accomplices!" the orcs shouted in alarm.
The wargs had already acted preemptively, pouncing toward where the arrow had originated.
The lead beast was immediately felled by another arrow shot at close range, but with its death, that hidden helper could no longer remain concealed.
Thus an elf leaped out from cover. He abandoned his bow instantly, instead drawing two sharp daggers from his belt and charging directly into the wolf pack with fluid grace.
One Ranger, one elf—quickly and efficiently killing their way through wargs and orcs with practiced coordination.
Clearly just two enemies against superior numbers...
The orc at the very edge of the melee could not help stepping back in growing fear.
Yet in just moments, over a dozen wargs plus the remaining orcs all fell to the blood-soaked ground.
Those two warriors also turned their deadly gazes toward the last survivor.
Thud.
Just as the Ranger prepared to charge over, the elf was faster, throwing his dagger with perfect aim—one strike piercing clean through the skull.
The battle ended in sudden silence.
"Seems your hiding skills aren't quite there yet, Roadside Keep Ranger. Should I call you little seedling?" the elf said with light teasing.
"Little seedling?"
That Ranger smiled broadly, pulling out a medal to display with obvious pride.
"Look carefully—excellent Ranger medal, pinned on me personally by Uncle Levi himself."
"Oh?" The elf raised an eyebrow with interest.
While pulling out the dagger stuck deep in the orc's forehead, he said, "Then it seems my dramatic appearance was somewhat redundant after all."
"But you said 'Uncle Levi'?"
"Who are you, and what's your relationship with Levi exactly?"
"Thorongil. I studied at Roadside Keep for two years. My elders are quite familiar with Uncle Levi."
Aragorn hesitated slightly before giving his alias.
"And you?"
"Legolas... from the Woodland Realm."
Legolas also concealed his full identity, only briefly explaining his origin.
"Regardless, you helped me when I needed it. I must thank you properly."
Aragorn nodded to Legolas to show genuine respect.
He asked, "Do you have any particular mission? Perhaps I can help you in return."
"Not really. I just wanted to wander around and see more of the world."
"What about you, Ranger? What's your mission out here?"
"Same as you—just wandering around, incidentally cutting down some orcs when I find them."
Their conversation drifted into companionable silence for a moment.
"I plan to visit Rohan next. I heard their new king is quite wise and is reforming the kingdom."
Aragorn spoke first.
"Rohan, the land of the horse-lords," Legolas muttered the name thoughtfully.
"I've only heard one piece of news about that place recently."
"What news?"
"Their previous king was soundly defeated by Levi some years back."
"..."
Hearing this unexpected news, Aragorn fell silent.
This was truly the first time anyone had mentioned such a thing to him.
Aragorn didn't understand much about the previous generation's conflicts, but anyone beaten by Uncle Levi must have deserved it somehow.
"Don't worry. The current Rohan king has a very good relationship with Levi. You can go with confidence."
"But regrettably, I don't want to travel quite so far south. Before year's end I want to visit Roadside Keep—I heard it's quite lively and prosperous there."
"Do elves also feel lonely?"
"...Perhaps we do."
"Then farewell here, Legolas. May our paths cross again."
Their first meeting ended as simply as it had begun.
Two months later, Aragorn crossed the great Anduin, passed through the North Downs, and in Rohan's East Mark encountered cavalry battling a small orc raiding party. He immediately joined the fight without hesitation.
After the orcs were completely eliminated, the cavalrymen immediately surrounded Aragorn with drawn weapons, interrogating him with suspicion.
After he showed his excellent Ranger medal from Roadside Keep, the cavalry lowered their guard considerably and directed him toward Edoras with directions and warnings.
Quite smoothly, Aragorn reached Rohan's capital city.
Through Théoden's years of unrelenting effort and reform, this place had changed dramatically from its past depression, gradually recovering prosperity and pride.
Aragorn also successfully gained an audience with King Théoden in the Golden Hall.
However, in the great hall, besides the king, there was another unexpected visitor already present.
"I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey."
This old man stared at Aragorn intently, carefully examining him up and down with knowing eyes, constantly nodding with satisfaction, making the young man uncomfortable all over.
"Not bad—you have your ancestor's bearing and strength."
Gandalf patted Aragorn's shoulder firmly, bringing him before the throne and introducing him formally to Théoden.
"Perhaps this exceptional young man can do something important for you, Your Majesty."
Fate's ancient gears slowly turned, bringing together those who would reshape the world.
