Lord of the Rings: Warriors

"Kill!" 

Omsk roared, his lance radiating terrifying waves of battle energy. In the next moment, he thrust it mercilessly toward the narrow stone gate entrance.

Bang!

Shards of stone exploded outward like sharp arrows, shredding the surrounding orcs. 

Blood-drenched remains littered the ground.

"Charge!" The knights surged through the breach that Omsk had opened.

The orcs, who had hastily reorganized to block the knights, barely reached the steps before colliding head-on with the charging knight squad.

Bang!

Crack!

Roar!

Screech!

The cries of warhorses, the anguished screams of orcs, and the battle cries of knights mingled together. Blood streamed down the stone steps, turning them into a river of carnage. 

The knights fought to push upwards while the orcs desperately tried to shove them back.

"Omsk has created a breakthrough! The reinforcements are coming!" Rynar shouted amidst the chaotic melee. 

He could see the dwarven army and the royal guards pouring in from the rear. 

If they were trapped here, the orcs could reposition their ballistae and cause devastating casualties in this confined space.

"War Stomp!" Omsk tugged on his reins, and his Abyss Warhorse reared up. Wrapped in a violent surge of battle energy, its hooves slammed down heavily.

Boom!

A terrifying shockwave burst forth in a 60° arc in front of the Abyss Warhorse. Within a 50-meter radius, the orcs were smashed into a grotesque mixture of flesh and bone. 

Black-green blood twisted and spread across the ground. Even Rynar, who had gradually become accustomed to the battlefield, felt his stomach churn violently at the grisly sight.

"Charge! Charge! 

To the ends of the earth! Slay them all!" 

Taking advantage of the orcs' stunned shock, Omsk raised his lance and charged ahead. With each sweep of his lance, orc bones shattered, and muscles tore. 

The few who were fortunate enough to survive writhed on the ground, wailing in agony.

Rumble, rumble!

The Zaltarion Knights, renowned as one of the most elite orders, pushed past their shock and nausea, pressing forward with Omsk.

"It's clear!" Omsk exclaimed, excitement in his voice.

At last, the orcs blocking the stone steps were routed. Omsk led his knights to seize the stone hall at the entrance. 

Through the open gateway, a network of branching paths stretched out in all directions.

"Dismount! Secure this position and wait for reinforcements!" Rynar ordered with relief. The most difficult part of breaching the city was finally over.

The orcs, realizing the gate was lost, abandoned their attempts to use ballistae to target the soldiers crossing the bridge. 

Instead, they repositioned the massive weapons, planning to inflict heavier casualties during the street battles.

"The ballistae have been moved!" Elenthor said grimly.

"Those scum are getting smarter!" 

Thranduil's face darkened. If the ballistae had remained in the towers, Elenthor and the other elves could have eliminated them with precision strikes, albeit at the cost of some time.

"Order the troops to advance!" Thranduil instructed his adjutant with a sigh. Now they could only hope the ballistae caused minimal losses during the street fighting.

"Yes, sir!"

The elves cautiously followed the dwarves into the city. 

The dwarves had already secured the main street ahead of the hall, but the branching paths loomed like gaping maws, ready to devour any who ventured into them.

"We need to split our forces... There are too many forks!" Rynar said, rubbing his temples.

"We must hurry to the Royal Hall and seize control of the city's central hub to cut off the enemy!" 

Bard suggested. Familiar with the architectural styles of various races, he knew the elves' Royal Hall could serve as a crucial stronghold to divide the battlefield.

"Don't forget about the Nazgûl lurking in the shadows!" Balin warned, gripping his battle axe as he scanned the brightly lit hall.

"Five paths, but only four sixth-tier combatants... And we don't even know if the Nazgûl are together or scattered," Rynar sighed. 

He glanced around the hall, faintly discerning the grandeur of its elven heritage from a previous age. 

Yet now, the elves were a dwindling race, and the intricate carvings on the walls seemed to lament their tragic fate.

"Don't panic! We'll figure something out!" Vanervi tried to reassure the group, seeing the sweat on their brows.

"We have to explore all the paths; we can't leave any unchecked. Who knows what the orcs have done to this place over the centuries?" 

Thranduil stepped forward, taking charge as the host. While he knew every street from thousands of years ago, time had undoubtedly brought changes.

"Why didn't anyone consult Gandalf? He's been here before and discovered the orc army!" Rynar muttered. 

It baffled him that the Woodland Elves, intent on reclaiming this city, hadn't sought Gandalf's insights. 

Though a somewhat unconventional melee wizard, Gandalf's memory could have easily mapped out the area.

"By the gods… Poor dwarves, ignorant dwarves, pitiful dwarves… agreeing to fight an unprepared war… 

Thorin and I must have been mad to launch this campaign," Balin lamented, covering his face dramatically.

"So we're stuck because of five paths?" Aranthor sneered, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"No one wants to sacrifice themselves. 

If a team without sixth-tier warriors picks the wrong path, they're doomed," Bard admitted, utterly exhausted. The unsolvable dilemma had worn him down.

"I wish Peter were here..." Elenthor muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Didn't you leave him to guard the base?" Rynar's exasperation grew, black lines forming on his forehead.

"I regret it! I didn't expect there to be five paths here..." Elenthor mumbled, sounding pitiful.

"My mighty Star Elf King, we've already fought our way in! We have 3,000 men bottlenecked here, and now you're telling us you forgot? 

Get Elandorhl here, and stop wasting time! Who knows where the orc reinforcements are hiding?" Rynar retorted, inwardly lamenting the looming threat of Sauron's demonic Fellbeasts.

"System, sign in!" Rynar glanced at the faintly glowing sky with resignation. 

The night had passed, yet they had barely engaged the orcs properly—first stuck at the bridge and now stymied by these cursed paths.

"Sign-in successful. Congratulations, host, on obtaining 50 Elaris Woods Rangers."

"This...! After all these years… The system finally gave me some elite units!" Rynar was almost moved to tears, grateful for the timely reinforcements.

The system remained silent.

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