Chapter 164: Preparing for Battle

Ashur, who had already sensed that he had suffered heavy losses, was at this time leading an army of over ten thousand men, having almost mobilized all of his resources; furthermore, at this moment, he had already learned of the existence of the Dwarves of Erebor from the mouths of his tribesmen who had fled from the north.

Upon receiving the news, Ashur believed he had figured out the reason why the Humans dared to attack him, which made him extremely furious.

This anger did not come entirely from his losses over these past two months, but also in part from his current predicament; having calmed down, he felt somewhat annoyed at his own impulsiveness.

As he marched, Ashur began to worry in his heart whether the Elf troops of the Woodland Realm had also, contrary to their usual behavior, joined in this war of aggression against him; if the Humans, Dwarves, and Elves were to pour out in full force, then he, currently severely weakened, would very likely be at a disadvantage in this war.

In his youth, Ashur had never spared his own life in order to climb to the top, but now, having been a Warlord for decades, he did not want to fight a battle without certainty.

However, Ashur knew he could not retreat easily; under such humiliating circumstances, if he were to return to his lair with his soldiers in a dejected manner without even seeing the face of the enemy, the image he had maintained all along would collapse in an instant, and the prestige he had painstakingly built up over so many years would also be drained away in a short time.

Yes, Ashur, who ruled his tribe with an image of cruelty, strength, and fearlessness, knew he absolutely could not show a sign of weakness, otherwise he would be unable to suppress the various Captains under his command, nor the tribal leaders who had not long ago defected to him.

Therefore, at this time, the impotently furious Ashur could only lead his soldiers to bite the bullet and press on, advancing eastward from Chariot City, with the massive procession following in the wake of Allen along the path of destroyed camps.

Now, Ashur desperately hoped that it would start to snow, so that he would have a suitable excuse to stop this pursuit of unknown outcome, or at the very least, give him time to update his intelligence on the enemy before making his next move.

However, the sky had been overcast for several days, yet it would not snow.

During this process, squads of Easterling Cavalry sent out for reconnaissance slowly returned to Ashur's side, bringing one piece of bad news after another: his vassal tribes in the eastern part of Rhovanion had been nine-tenths destroyed, with only one subordinate in the far west having been spared.

And this tribe had already begun to spontaneously organize an army, preparing to follow Ashur to seek revenge against the enemy on the other side of Mirkwood, and incidentally obtain a little bit of loot.

At this time, Ashur finally had a reason to stop his pursuit to wait for the orders of his allies, allowing his soldiers to begin resting in place.

In fact, marching on this plain, it would not take much time to travel from Chariot City to Heidelberg, and even with a large army, it would not take half a month; having chased them in a hurry all the way, Ashur knew he was already very close to the enemy's troops, and a battle could break out at any moment on the remaining journey.

In utter desperation, Ashur thought of an old method he had often used before.

That is, if he truly caught up with the enemy who was "fleeing" ahead, he would let the three small tribes following behind him go first to test the enemy's combat strength; if the enemy consisted only of Humans and Dwarves, then the advantage would still be his, and the battle would still be winnable, at which point Ashur would lead all his troops to press forward.

But if Elves truly appeared on the other side, then Ashur would not need to worry about what excuse to use for retreating; many of his subordinates had previously plundered near the Running River and had suffered significant losses at the hands of the Elves near Mirkwood.

By that time, even if Ashur gave the order to retreat, none of the Captains would think he was cowardly, but would only believe that their leader had made a wise decision.

Once he led his tribesmen back to the camp, he could rely on the defensive measures there to resist the enemy's attack, and in such weather, those fellows on the other side could not possibly besiege him for too long.

Moreover, Ashur had also considered that if the enemy really chased him down, he would send an envoy to Mordor to request support from the Dark Lord; although such a move would be very shameful, Ashur still believed that his own tribesmen and property were more important, and in any case, his underlings would not be able to obtain too much specific information.

If everything went smoothly then, he would not only be able to ensure his own safety, but after forcing the enemy back, there would still be a possibility of developing again.

"Next time, I must make sure the tribes that defect to me are closer."

Thinking of this, Ashur cast a calm glance at the two respectful-looking Warlords beside him, feeling no guilt in his heart for calculating against his subordinates.

At the same time, Ashur also thought of Baal, who occupied Red River Town but was dawdling and refusing to send troops, and a feeling of resentment could not help but arise in his heart, but sitting on his War Chariot, he did not show it in the slightest.

As for the two Easterling Warlords who had received an invitation and were traveling on Ashur's chariot, although they were full of respect at this moment, their hearts were full of suspicion.

They could not figure out why the leader, who had been full of rage just a few days ago, was walking slower and slower for no reason over the past two days, and was now actually stopping his march just to wait for a mere thousand reinforcements.

But they had long heard of Ashur's terrifying reputation, and ever since they came to this place called Rhovanion, they had been living quite well, so they dared not ask, nor did they want to ask, and could only obey the leader's orders.

Just as these three were each harboring their own thoughts, a grey bird suddenly appeared in the sky to the east amidst the cold wind; after discovering their procession, it suddenly glided and flew back toward the east.

At this moment, Ashur, perhaps sensing that something was watching him, raised his head to observe and happened to see the bird gliding; soon it flew further and further away, leaving only a black dot in Ashur's line of sight.

This caused a trace of doubt to arise in Ashur's heart: in such cold weather, birds should be flying in flocks toward the south, or finding a warm place to spend the winter; how could it be flying alone toward the west in such weather?

This was the Wilderness in the dead of winter; even fierce birds like vultures would only come out to forage when the weather cleared up, let alone such a small bird.

In an instant, the eyes of this Easterling leader became grave, and he drew a cold breath, turning to ask the Captain of the Personal Guard beside him: "Made, have the cavalry sent to the east returned yet?"

Made was stunned for a moment upon hearing the inquiry, then recalled carefully, and his heart sank, knowing that something had gone wrong, but he still answered: "My Lord, they have only been out for two days; they probably haven't had a chance to discover anything yet? Perhaps in another day, they should be back."

He could not directly say that something had gone wrong; if he said something that did not please Ashur, he would likely face the punishment of lashing.

Hearing this, Ashur shook his head, for he remembered that several years ago, the cavalry he had sent out had also never returned, having died on this Wilderness at the hands of the enemy's more powerful cavalry; the scene now was so similar.

With his vigilance heightened, Ashur felt that the bird that had suddenly turned was aimed at him, which meant the enemy was already waiting for him nearby, but he maintained a steady expression, only his movements became a bit faster.

With a guess already in his mind, Ashur turned and said quickly to Tade, who was sitting on another War Chariot: "Have everyone gather and prepare for battle in a defensive formation, quickly, right now."

As he spoke, he looked at the two Warlords beside him.

"And you two, gather your men and assist Tade in setting up defenses, quickly, quickly, quickly."

As he spoke, Ashur stood up and began to look into the distance from the chariot; however, the surroundings were an endless plain, and apart from the undulating withered yellow grassland, there was nothing, and the overcast weather also affected his vision to a certain extent, so Ashur did not discover any signs of danger.

The calm surroundings made Ashur breathe a sigh of relief without leaving a trace; just now his tribesmen were resting and were completely unprepared for battle; if the enemy's cavalry had suddenly charged out at this moment, he would inevitably have suffered some losses.

"Made, you personally take five squads of cavalry and search toward the east; pay attention, have each squad maintain a certain distance, and the moment you discover traces of the enemy, do not engage, just run back to me, do you understand?"

No matter what, Ashur still wanted to verify his guess; although this area was all plains and the possibility of the enemy ambushing him was not high, he could not take that risk.

Most of the terrain in Rhovanion was indeed plains, but that did not mean it was all 180-degree perfectly flat ground; there were always hills and gullies.

On a low earthen slope in the distance, Thorin II was lying on the ground, looking at the Easterlings in the distance with the telescope in his hand; he saw him hand the telescope to Allen beside him, and then said triumphantly: "Allen, take a look. I believe the enemy is already prepared; it is obvious that your plan has failed. Next, you should listen to me: let us take all the cavalry and charge over, let the infantry follow behind to clean up the mess, and crush the enemy in one fell swoop. Listen to me, there is still time now; if we delay any longer, it will probably be too late."

Since reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, Thorin's personality had undergone a great change in a short time; the gloomy and sensitive Prince of the past had gradually become a bright and open-minded King; of course, his stubbornness remained unchanged, and at this moment he was still insisting on his plan of a direct frontal assault, which was very much in the style of the valiant and battle-hardened Dwarves.

At this moment, Allen was listening to Cress's report; after taking the telescope, Allen also looked at the gathering Easterlings and knew that Thorin was right—the enemy was already prepared—but Allen could not think of where he had gone wrong for a moment.

At this time, Allen also believed that the only option left was a frontal decisive battle, but he still had to seek the opinion of his Elf ally.

"Lindir, what do you think of the plan to charge directly?"

Standing elegantly at the foot of the slope, Lindir did not know what to say as he watched the two men lying on the slope; one was the King of the Lonely Mountain who ruled all the Dwarves of Durin, and the other was a newly risen human upstart, just lying on the ground peeking at the enemy army.

This behavior made this Noldor Elf not know what to say; you could at least stand up.

"Continuing to look for opportunities to ambush the enemy can certainly minimize our losses, but facing the enemy directly at this time will save us a lot of time; after all, Gondor is still waiting for our rescue."

Hearing this, Thorin looked at Allen triumphantly, as if to say, look, the Elf agrees with my plan.

"But cherishing the lives of one's own people is never wrong; can that bit of time really be more important than the lives of one's people? The two lords can think about it carefully. As for what to do next, the two of you can decide; I will assist with all my might."

Allen smiled silently, and after laughing, he said to Thorin: "I knew I shouldn't have asked the Elves for advice; they first tell you that going left is right, then they say going right is also not wrong, and in the end, you still have to make the decision yourself. Then let's listen to you, Thorin; we will charge directly, but the specific details need to be modified."

Time gradually reached noon; because the sun had been hidden behind thick clouds, the Easterlings could not figure out the specific time, but hunger would tell them that it was time for lunch.

Most armies, when marching, rely on some hard dry rations and water to satisfy their hunger, and only when setting up camp in the evening can they rest properly and eat a hot meal; however, the Easterlings were somewhat different, as they drove a large number of wagons to transport supplies while marching.

When resting to cook, these wagons played a crucial role; when the Easterlings connected them end-to-end in a circle, they could not only slow down the cold wind from all directions but could even serve as simple defensive platforms in times of crisis to withstand enemy charges.

What these Easterlings liked most was that some wagons were specifically used for cooking, and they had stoves specially bestowed by the Dark Lord; as long as they chiseled a water source in the nearby small river, it could provide some simple hot soup. In such cold weather, having this was quite good, not to mention that their lives had improved a lot, and some vegetables and meat had begun to appear in the soup.

At this time, the Easterlings used this bowl of hot soup to soak the hard dry rations until they were soft; eating it could completely dispel the cold from their bodies, which could be considered one of the few good things to look forward to during the march.

However, they were destined not to drink this bowl of soup so smoothly; at this moment, units of infantry in bright armor slowly gathered together from behind the slope and out of the gullies, appearing before the eyes of the Easterlings, with the distance between the two sides being only a few thousand meters.

This gathered infantry formed a battle formation in a short time, and with fairly steady steps, slowly approached the Easterlings who were eating; as the distance between the two sides grew closer, Ashur, who had stopped the action of drinking soup, gradually saw the full picture of the enemy, and his heart was then set at ease.

Because he only saw the figures of Humans and Dwarves in the oncoming ranks, along with some scattered Cavalry and a few Dwarf Chariots, and did not discover any Elves, then this battle could absolutely be fought.

Moreover, Ashur was also rejoicing in his heart at his own caution; those Northmen and Durin Dwarves who walked out from the shadows were clearly wanting to ambush him while he was on the march, and fortunately, he had stopped his steps.

At this time, the distance between the two sides was still quite far, and the already exposed enemy had left him sufficient time to prepare; thinking of this, Ashur loudly cursed at his subordinates who were looking at each other in dismay: "What are you standing there stunned for? Did the soup go to your brains? Pick up your weapons, stand in formation, and prepare for battle."