Chapter 120: Surprise Attack and Accident

That night, the moon was bright and the stars were sparse, and the beautiful and shining light of the Great Hope Star was already flickering in the sky.

Long before the flames rose, the personal guards had awakened the sleeping Hamish; even without the guards needing to explain anything, the battle-hardened Easterling Warlord knew exactly what was happening the moment he heard the chaotic sounds outside.

"F*** it."

Hamish cursed while fiercely rubbing his bearded face, allowing his brain, which had been occupied by rage, to become slightly calmer.

"Go, all of you go, go gather all the soldiers who can still obey orders, have them assemble here immediately, at once."

Even though a great number of exclamations and screams were coming from all directions of the camp, these personal guards still carried out the order, scattering from Hamish's camp wagon toward the surroundings; soon, they were followed by squads of poorly equipped Easterling soldiers holding all sorts of miscellaneous weapons.

As for Hamish, he threw out all the unimportant things in his war chariot, even dismantling the roof, and then he personally harnessed four fine steeds to his chariot, while simultaneously installing extremely sharp blades onto the chariot's wheels.

Then Hamish sat down in the driver's seat of the war chariot, aiming the direction of the chariot toward the south, where the sounds of slaughter were most intense; as soon as a certain number of soldiers gathered around him, he would immediately charge toward the enemies who had broken into the camp.

The surprise attack planned by Allen and his men did indeed plunge these Easterlings into a certain degree of chaos, especially the Easterlings living around the perimeter of the camp; the fire caused by Allen and his Cavalry soon spread from the war chariots or wooden walls to the Easterlings' tents or the wealth they had snatched with such painstaking effort, and some flames even ignited directly on the Easterlings' tents, with the people inside being licked by tongues of fire while they slept, dying miserably in the agony of burning.

At this moment, the Easterling camp was like a ring of fire gradually burning from the outside in, yet there were some exceptions.

The places where those Easterlings kept their slaves were far too crude; other than people, there was really nothing that could burn, which turned out to be a blessing for these Northern Men who had suffered so much at the hands of the Easterlings.

After realizing what was happening, they moved away from the burning walls and their compatriots, while quickly moving the few supplies that could be ignited away from the fire source; these various actions meant that these Northern Men who had become slaves did not suffer too great a loss at the start of this raid, and subsequently, some people with prestige and ideas began to incite their neighbors to do something adventurous during this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Under the illumination of the flames, they soon split into two factions; the larger group tended to put out the crumbling walls and escape from there, even though they were still wearing shackles at the time, but the Easterling soldiers guarding them had either been shot dead or had gone off to fight fires somewhere unknown, and now was a good time to flee for their lives; this portion consisted of Northern Men who had been slaves for a long time, and having suffered much, they hoped to leave the control of the Easterlings as soon as possible; their numbers reached several hundred, mostly the elderly, weak, women, and children.

The other portion was smaller in number and hoped that everyone would take up weapons in the chaos to avenge the family members who had died miserably under the hands of the Easterling soldiers; most of these people were captives recently plundered by the Easterlings, and they were almost all young and strong, numbering less than two hundred; they had already risked their lives to obtain a few decent weapons from the Easterling soldiers who had been shot dead.

Soon, the argument spread among these captives, but it did not last long, because due to the burning of the flames, the wooden walls could no longer hold up, and cracks began to appear in many places; the sound of the walls collapsing to the ground immediately attracted their attention, and those who advocated for escape stopped talking, quickly paving a path to survival with the mud under their feet and fleeing from the Easterling camp; the captives who advocated for revenge, after looking at each other, also followed their fleeing compatriots.

Then these people immediately encountered Allen, who was leading his Cavalry; he was currently chasing down a small group of Easterlings who had bolted from the camp, and upon suddenly seeing a large force rushing out from the camp, he immediately gathered the Cavalry around him and gave chase.

Fortunately, the moonlight was very bright tonight, and the fire in the camp was burning extremely fiercely; also thanks to the fact that Allen's eyes could see a great distance in the night, the ragged clothing made him stop his men's Throwing Spear attacks.

But this was not the time for pleasantries either; Allen looked at the crowd that had escaped the camp and shouted to them.

"Keep running north, go to Dale."

Afterward, he stopped paying attention to them and instead took the dozens of Cavalry who had been following him, forcibly ordering the horses to charge from where the captives had emerged into the camp that was still burning with raging flames; after breaking through the fences the Easterlings used to pen in the captives, they began to slaughter the Easterlings who were still in a panic within the camp.

Everything that happened in Hamish's camp naturally caught Kurda's attention, and the chaos occurring in the nearby camp also caused Kurda's side to enter a state of alert.

Standing under his own watchtower, Kurda vigilantly observed the situation in the surroundings, his shiny head reflecting the raging fire in the distance; this sweating Easterling Warlord seemed to feel the heat wave hitting his face.

Of course, this was an illusion, yet Kurda's heart was indeed burning with anxiety because of his friend's plight; he had already issued the order for the soldiers to assemble, but apart from his personal guards, most of the Easterling soldiers had terrible discipline, and wanting to get them assembled in a short time was simply a pipe dream.

In the raging firelight, Kurda could see squads of well-equipped Dwarves who had already fought from the camp gate almost to the center of the camp, which was where Hamish rested.

At this time, the fire and the enemies had not yet spread there; under the moonlight, Kurda could barely see squads of Shadows gathering together; Kurda knew that according to Hamish's character, he would not run away, and launching a charge against the enemies who had broken into the camp would be the only choice his friend would make.

A portion of Kurda's men had also gathered at this moment; after an intense struggle within his heart, Kurda still decided that at such a critical moment, he would extend a helping hand to his friend, ally, and childhood companion; of course, the sentiment of "when the rabbit dies, the fox grieves" also affected Kurda, although he did not understand the term, he still understood the principle.

Soon, the gate of Kurda's camp near Hamish's camp slowly opened, and more than ten War Chariots rushed out from the camp gate first, followed by hundreds of fully armed Easterling soldiers holding various weapons.

Kurda could have gathered more soldiers, whether War Chariots or infantry, he could have exceeded this number by double, but Hamish's current situation did not allow him to spend any more time gathering his soldiers.

This move by Kurda happened to undo a portion of his own losses; just as his soldiers rushed out of the camp gate to support Hamish's camp, a series of "buzzing" sounds rang out to the east of Kurda.

Subsequently, countless arrows fell from the sky, landing on the Easterling War Chariots and the heads of the soldiers; Thranduil, who had already wanted to support the Dwarves, finally waited for the support of another Easterling camp for his ally, and in the face of this move by the enemy, he unceremoniously issued the order to fire.

The Elves, who had emerged from their camouflage, had their armor emitting a faint golden light under the moonlight; their continuous shooting completely wiped out the reinforcements Kurda had sent to support Hamish, and even the horses pulling the War Chariots neighed and fell under the rain of arrows.

Kurda, who was still gathering soldiers in the camp, naturally saw this scene; he had no time to feel the heartache, but instead, like a madman, he sat on his own war chariot, leading the men who were already following behind him, and bolted out from the other camp gate, fleeing for his life in the direction of Ashur.

Without Hamish's support, and having already lost half of his troops, Kurda knew that facing hundreds of well-equipped Dwarves, as well as those unknown numbers of Elves emitting golden light, he had no possibility of resistance; running away was his best choice at this time, and also his only choice; as for his allies, his wealth, his slaves, and his followers, he could no longer care about them.

Before fleeing, he had already issued the order to retreat; as for how many people could follow him out, he could only say it was up to fate.

Thranduil had not expected at all that the enemy before him could run so decisively; by the time he led his troops to attack Kurda's camp, there were not many Easterlings left inside; all that remained were the wealth they had plundered from the Northern Men and those Northern Men who had been reduced to slaves.

The kind-hearted King of the Woodland Realm did not issue an order to pursue, but instead had his men rescue the Northern Men who had become slaves, while letting them flee south along the riverbank; as for himself, after finishing all this, he also led his people toward the burning camp, preparing to support the Dwarves who were fighting hard.

At this time, the ferocious-looking Hamish did not know that his ally had already decisively abandoned him; hot-tempered and driving his war chariot, he was now slightly insane, not even caring about the Easterlings fleeing wildly on the road, charging toward the Dwarf formation without slowing down at all, and following behind him were the few hundred Easterling soldiers he had barely managed to assemble.

These few hundred men were already the last of his subordinates he could gather; the rest had either died at the hands of the Dwarves or had been slaughtered by the Human Cavalry gradually charging into the camp.

Dain, who was leading his soldiers to kill the Easterlings, was actually a bit late when he saw a war chariot pulled by four fine steeds charging wildly toward him; he only had time to shout "Scatter," before being knocked away by the galloping horses.

Dain, who was extremely well-equipped and had excellent physical fitness, quickly patted his bottom and climbed up from the ruined debris to the side after being knocked away by the horses; this bit of impact meant nothing to a Dwarf; normally, their physical fitness allowed them to withstand a full-force blow from a Troll head-on, and even if knocked flying, they would still have decent combat capability, provided they had equipment and a shield.

However, the action of force is mutual; the extremely sturdy Dwarf, combined with his angular armor, directly carved a terrifying and miserable wound onto the fine steed pulling the war chariot, and Hamish's war chariot also lost control amidst the painful neighing of this steed.

Hamish, who was driving the war chariot, did not hesitate in the slightest, immediately cutting the ropes binding the injured steed; after stabilizing the war chariot again, Hamish charged toward the distance.

And at this time, the soldiers following behind Hamish had also charged toward the Dwarf formation along the road.

Because most of the Dwarves had already split into small squads and were chasing the fleeing Easterlings, Dain only had dozens of Dwarf warriors by his side, but under Dain's order, they quickly assembled into a small military formation, and after standing firm, they launched a counter-charge toward the Easterling troops.

At this moment, Allen, leading his Cavalry, had already charged back and forth several times in the Easterling camp; any Easterling who dared to raise a weapon in front of them would die miserably under their charge, and in the process, the Twilight Knights who had originally scattered in various places also re-gathered around Allen, fulfilling their duty as personal guards.

It was just that most Easterlings, when facing the enemy, always had the first reaction of picking up the weapon closest to them; only a very few were willing to kneel on the ground to beg for their lives, leaving Allen, who had originally wanted to get some captives to mine in Orc Town, with no choice but to swing the weapon in his hand and kill them.

Reality is not a game; hitting the enemy in front of you with a blunt weapon does not guarantee a one-hundred-percent capture rate.

Before long, Allen, who was leading the Cavalry in constant charges, no longer saw any enemy figures in front of him, and the sounds of slaughter coming from the center of the camp immediately attracted Allen's attention; he led the Cavalry following him and rushed toward the direction of the slaughter.

The battle had already ended by the time Allen appeared behind the Easterlings; with the impact of the galloping Cavalry from behind and the immovable Dwarf elites in front, these Easterling soldiers soon collapsed; some Easterlings on the sides of the formation began to run toward the still-burning ruins, hoping to gain a chance to escape, while some Easterlings who had lost the desire to fight under the double pincer attack dropped their weapons and declared surrender.

It was at this moment that Hamish actually drove his war chariot out from the flames, charging toward the Dwarf formation once again; in the firelight, Hamish was screaming gibberish, and from that near-insane expression, it could be seen that his reason had been burned away by rage.

The Dwarves, having finished the battle and being prepared, threw the Spears in their hands toward Hamish; the powerful attack directly caused the panicked, galloping horses to collapse to the ground, and the war chariot also stopped under the obstruction of the horses, while Hamish was also pierced through the chest by several Spears; spitting blood, he looked angrily at the Dwarves in front of him, and then his breathing stopped.

This battle seemed to have come to an end here, and then an extremely shrill screech also spread across the entire battlefield at this moment; this sound could not be described in words, only that all the Humans who heard this sound felt an uncontrollable, immense fear in their hearts, and even the well-trained Warhorses were running away wildly at this sound, with staying away from here being the only thought in their brains.

The Dwarves performed slightly better than the Humans in this screech; they were still able to barely gather around their Commander, "Ironfoot" Dain, but their faces still revealed an uncontrollable expression of fear, looking up toward the direction from which the sound came.

Only the Elves, or rather the Sindar Elves with long silver hair, were able to maintain a stable state of mind in this screech; Thranduil was exceptionally familiar with this sound, yet he could no longer care about anything else at this time; those countless eyes flashing with green light in the dark night were rapidly approaching the Elves' formation.

"Sangair Formation!"

"

Just as the Elves were rapidly changing their formation to deal with the enemy's attack, a pitch-black Shadow appeared from the gale and landed in the still-burning camp.

Under the illumination of the firelight, that Fell Beast with a ferocious face opened its mouth full of fangs and screeched again, and riding on the beast was a pitch-black Shadow that seemed to be able to absorb the firelight; on the ferocious gauntlet holding a Morgul Blade, a Gold Ring inlaid with a gemstone was shining brightly.

This was Sauron's lieutenant, Khamul, who was about to take charge of Dol Guldur.

Just as Khamul's gaze was looking at everything on the field through his pitch-black hood, fourteen arrows were shot toward him and his flying beast from not far away, one of which was even flickering with a rich white light.

In an instant, Khamul felt the threat; he brandished the Longsword in his hand, knocking away the several arrows attacking him, while the light arrow he felt was the most threatening went straight into the open mouth of the Fell Beast, and soon the Fell Beast, which had been extremely arrogant, threw Khamul off its back while rolling in pain.

The agile Ringwraith stood firm and looked toward the fourteen figures shimmering with silver light amidst the flames.