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Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 248
🕑 Added 2025-09-25 18:05:22 +0000 UTCChapter 248: Guess Where We Are
The night was not peaceful. When darkness fell, besides the never-ending clanging sounds of construction, some Rangers also rode out to maintain high-intensity vigilance around the area.
All orcs attempting to approach and gather intelligence were quickly eliminated. White fireworks could occasionally be seen exploding in the air in the distance.
"What's that?" Balin suddenly looked up.
"Bats."
Gandalf squinted, somehow able to see such distant objects clearly even at night.
"Rangers. The Rangers are shooting at bats in the sky."
"White fireworks... it seems we don't need to worry for now. If it were a call for aid, those fireworks would be quite conspicuous red."
The residents continued with their respective tasks, but Gandalf and Balin weren't idle either.
Though the two couldn't help much with construction, they were at least a learned wizard who had traveled Middle-earth for thousands of years and an old scholar who had lived over two hundred years. They could serve as advisors, acting as small foremen.
Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.
As the sun rose and brilliant sunlight spread across the earth, a silver-bright army appeared at the horizon's edge from the northern Grey Road.
Roadside Keep's army had arrived.
Standing atop the high walls, Gandalf gazed into the distance, feeling a sense of déjà vu.
This army had the bearing of elves.
Rumble.
The brand-new gates opened as the army entered the city in order, arranging themselves neatly on the large open spaces that hadn't yet had time for construction.
"Seems we arrived just in time."
Falodan now also wore the same armor. Behind him, besides the army from Roadside Keep, were some people whose appearance and stature could be called outstanding among their peers.
These were the Dúnedain instructors stationed at Roadside Keep for training work.
They looked serious, determined, and strong, mostly with battle-hardened temperaments like stones that had endured many storms. Compared to them, Roadside Keep's soldiers looked like children leaving home for the first time.
No wonder the Dúnedain liked calling them "little saplings." Looking at the contrast, there was indeed good reason for the nickname.
"Latest intelligence: enemy numbers are over fifteen thousand, and conservatively there are three Nazgûl."
Seeing Falodan return with the army, Gandalf also descended the walls to meet him.
Upon hearing this news, Falodan couldn't help frowning, a sense of crisis arising in his heart.
The army was manageable. Though Riverside Keep was newly established, its walls were quite solid. Even if breached by something outrageous, they could be quickly repaired.
The Rangers in the city, reinforcements from Roadside Keep, plus construction team members barely totaled five thousand. Not one person among them couldn't fight.
Moreover, they were all soldiers, and everyone was also trained in multiple combat styles, all equipped with bows and arrows, capable of both ranged and close combat.
"If our enemies were only orcs, it would be manageable..."
Falodan looked worried.
"But it's far more than orcs. Even setting aside those giant beasts, they also have Nazgûl."
Gandalf said: "I can handle two. Can you deal with the remaining one?"
"Of course."
Falodan showed a confident expression, patting his breastplate.
"In the Far East, I once defeated a Nazgûl."
"Good, very good."
Gandalf nodded.
But Balin was displeased.
"Hey, don't forget there's a dwarf here too. Can't you spare one for me?"
"You can certainly try."
Gandalf glanced at him: "When the time comes, you stay by my side. When a Nazgûl comes, you jump up and whack its head."
"What did you say?"
Balin stared at Gandalf accusingly: "Did you just use some rather euphemistic way to say something insulting?"
"No, Master Balin. I was just giving you advice."
"Really quite good advice, Gandalf. I almost want to jump up and try it on you first."
"Oh no, this old man couldn't withstand such a large steel axe."
"So you think I'm young?"
The two old men began bickering.
Young Dúnadan Falodan, only over a hundred years old, couldn't get a word in. Out of respect for his elders, he could only watch and let them resolve it themselves.
However, sometimes doing nothing was also wrong. A fire that had already ignited wouldn't extinguish itself. It would only grow larger until it burned those standing nearby.
"What do you think, Falodan?"
"Uh, I think..."
Falodan was caught in a dilemma.
I think we should quickly drag Levi back.
Bard in distant Dale thought the same.
"Can't he wait a little longer?"
Gathering armies from Dale territory's three towns to head to the other side of the mountains to Roadside Keep... beside the completely new territory of Riverside Keep he'd never heard of. This was too sudden, without any warning.
Levi had suddenly appeared in Dale, told him this news, and it was an urgent directive.
"Assemble an army at maximum speed. Our enemy is a great army of tens of thousands of orcs, plus several Nazgûl."
Bard clearly understood the seriousness of this statement.
Tens of thousands of orcs. This scale reminded him of the Battle of Five Armies, when there were over thirty thousand orcs while the combined human, dwarf, and elf forces totaled only about five thousand.
But now, Dale territory's available forces were not limited to five thousand...
"Emergency assembly!"
While quickly donning armor, Bard issued orders to various responsible parties.
"Except for necessary garrison forces, all armor up and advance at maximum speed!"
Rumble!
Gates opened. Without time for pre-battle speeches, large numbers of soldiers surged toward the Sky Road entrance.
Actually, no speech was needed. One sentence sufficed:
"Fight for our lord."
Making the same actions as Dale territory's various towns was Beorn's clan living in Carl Town. This valiant fighting group also began gathering combat personnel, marching toward the front lines.
Large forces were converging toward the western side of the mountains along that high Sky Road at an incredible speed.
"What's happening?"
A familiar scene repeated as Thorin hurriedly climbed Erebor's walls, looking at Dale with obviously fewer people, somewhat dumbfounded.
Too fast. The speed was too fast. By the time he received news, that great army had already disappeared beyond the horizon.
This mobilization speed was simply frightening. Erebor, a neighbor visible within sight, hadn't even reacted yet, while their army had already gone far away.
"It's Levi."
At this moment, the usually quick-acting Dwalin ran over to report: "Levi issued an urgent directive. He's gathered all available forces to head to the western mountains."
"This time it doesn't look like they're going to campaign somewhere. They're more like going to provide support."
"Support? Any more specific news?" Thorin asked urgently.
"Don't know. They left too quickly. Fili rode a goat to chase after them. We'll have to wait a while."
Thorin paced back and forth quickly: "If it requires Levi to defend, the enemy must be at least tens of thousands of orcs. This is no small matter. We need to assemble troops..."
"But Levi didn't mention this to us," Dwalin reminded from the side.
Thorin slowly spoke: "That means—"
"That means he might be too urgent to have time to tell us."
In Mirkwood's palace, Thranduil's command was decisive.
In the spacious hall, the king's voice was exceptionally clear:
"I clearly know his character. Until the most difficult moment, he would never bear to ask for help. But this doesn't mean we should just watch our ally step toward difficulty."
"Prepare mobilization. Also, tell me, have their armies assembled?"
Thranduil asked his deputy.
"My king, they've almost left the forest."
"What?"
