Chapter 190: The Elven Fleet

Since the beginning of the Second War, the battle between Gondor and Mordor has remained in a stalemate.

This situation is partly due to the fact that Sauron's primary goal in launching the war initially was to restore himself.

This meant that the first war, launched in haste by the Dark Lord, did not gather all the forces that owed him allegiance.

Of course, at that time, Sauron truly did not expect the opponent to be so troublesome, blocking his army firmly to the east of the Anduin River.

After all, for nearly two thousand years, he had been trying every possible way to bleed Gondor and Rohan dry.

This is also due to the brave and battle-hardened Gondorian and the valiant and courageous Rohirrim.

After fighting hard, they repelled Mordor's first offensive.

Thereby, before the second, larger-scale war arrived, Gondor was given more time to prepare.

Of course, the White Wizard residing in the tower of Orthanc not only did not hold his own side back this time, but also contributed a great deal to this war.

To be honest, this was actually something that both Allen and Sauron had not anticipated.

I am afraid no one could have imagined that, decades later, this White Wizard would become a Wizard of Many Colors, covet the power of Rohan, and sever one of Gondor's most powerful arms during the war.

However, judging by the current situation, this is unlikely to happen.

Allen's rapidly expanding strength might not leave Saruman with much time.

And the current stalemate is already a fairly good result for Gondor.

Without the help of other forces, the fall of Gondor would be a matter of time, but help from Eriador and Rhovanion has arrived at a critical moment.

Now that the war has developed to this point, it is time to turn from defense to offense.

At present, there are three battlefields on the Anduin River: Cair Andros, Osgiliath, and Pelargir.

Cair Andros is currently in enemy hands; the price required to take it is simply too high, and the risks faced are extremely high.

It is too close to Mordor and Minas Morgul, and it is heavily guarded; there is simply no possibility of taking it in the short term.

Unless forced by necessity, neither Allen nor Cirdan would make such an unwise decision.

As for Osgiliath, it is an abandoned city district; arranging more soldiers in the city district can only serve as reserve troops to increase the depth of the defense, and cannot fully utilize our side's numerical advantage and cavalry advantage.

In fact, the Haradrim attacking Osgiliath are experiencing this pain.

In order to plunder wealth, many Southrons have come to Gondor from the south, and a large portion of them are light cavalry equipped with horses.

However, such a large army cannot break through Gondor's elite defensive zones in the city of Osgiliath, and their pace of attack is frequently thwarted.

Both sides can be said to have paid a bloody price to seize the city area near the bridge.

But the Gondorian army is much more elite than the Haradrim, such as the commandos who once operated in Ithilien, armed with Cedar Longbows.

And the Royal Guard beside Ecthelion; these are the most powerful warriors of the Kingdom of Gondor.

With the help of these two elite units, plus the magic of Saruman, the fear aura emitted by the Nazgul can also be offset.

The strength of both sides is roughly equal.

The Gondorian garrison holding the line there has already resisted the Haradrim for nearly a month; it can be said that neither side can do anything to the other.

Even if the armies of Allen and Cirdan join in, it would be nothing more than a meat grinder with the enemy in the city, and it would be difficult to break the deadlock in a short time and deal the enemy a fatal blow.

As for Pelargir, it is a port city; most of the enemies are on ships, and Gondor's fleet is at a disadvantage and is blocked near Pelargir, making it impossible to carry the reinforcements arriving at this time.

Elves can indeed walk on snow without leaving a trace, but they cannot walk on water without leaving a trace; on the vast sea, they still have to take ships.

Allen, having pondered for a long time in his heart, slowly stood up and said with a serious expression:

"Before making the final war plan, I need to clarify one thing. Based on our encounter in the Brown Lands, I suspect the enemy has mastered a certain ability, a method to view our movements at any time. I believe everyone here knows what I am talking about: the Palantir."

Lord Turgon looked at Allen, who was speaking, with some surprise and nodded weakly; for him, this meeting had been a bit long.

"Indeed, what the enemy has mastered should be the Ithil-stone. It was once placed in Minas Ithil, and when that place became a land of darkness and evil, the stone fell into the hands of the enemy."

Hearing Turgon confirm his point of view, Allen continued: "We currently have no means to shield the Great Enemy's gaze, so we must be fast when we fight."

"To deal a heavy blow to the enemy's living force in a flash, the only opportunity lies in Osgiliath. Attacking directly from the city district will not work. We must cross the river to Ithilien, launch a surprise attack on the Haradrim stationed in Osgiliath from behind the enemy, and strike the enemy from both sides. This is fast enough and absolutely unexpected; it will be difficult for the enemy to react in time."

Upon hearing this, Gandalf put down his pipe and said with a serious expression:

"Such an approach is too dangerous. The former Emyn Arnen is now completely shrouded in the enemy's darkness. If discovered by the enemy, or if the battle does not go smoothly, this unit crossing the river will likely be surrounded, and it will be very difficult to return to the west bank of the river. However, I do not object, and I will go with you."

Allen nodded, acknowledging Gandalf's statement. In his heart, he did not like this kind of risky behavior.

However, such is the situation; if he must strike the enemy quickly, he cannot think of a better or more secure plan under the current circumstances, and he can only rely on this method.

"It is indeed dangerous, but if successful, we can directly sever one of the enemy's arms, and at the same time open the road to Ithilien, changing the current passive situation. Very well, let's go with this method."

Turgon said with joy on his face:

"There are still some ships hidden in the port of Harlond. If this plan is to be executed, we can cross the river there, and the garrison of Osgiliath will surely respond to your battle at the first opportunity."

If the power were in Turgon's hands, he would also choose this method without hesitation.

Because his time is running out, and this old gentleman does not want to hand over the Steward's staff to his son amidst the flames of war.

"We also have many small boats in Osgiliath. The warriors can use the boats to land on the eastern city district of Osgiliath and completely disrupt the enemy's line of sight. In short, for the sake of victory, Gondor will spare no effort."

Turgon emphasized his position with a firm tone.

Cirdan, on the other hand, looked at Allen with some surprise.

He felt that Allen had improved very quickly on the battlefield.

More than a month ago, when facing the enemy's interception, this young Human chose a very secure approach.

And now, in order to break the deadlock, he has begun to think of those dangerous but highly effective surprise moves.

This Elven King who rules Lindon still knows too little about Allen.

It is not that he cannot think of surprise moves, it is just that he subconsciously chooses a more secure way.

"Since everyone has no objections to this plan, let's start preparing immediately. The Great Enemy already knows of our arrival, and he will never remain indifferent to this. If we are too slow, other changes will surely occur."

Allen can imagine that Sauron, who has grasped the initiative, will absolutely not allow his side to strike first; his evil and cruel nature must be brewing some terrifying plan.

His side must be as fast as possible.

"No, no, no, Allen, we still need to wait, wait for news brought by the sea breeze. Believe me, it won't take long."

Allen looked at the smiling Cirdan and suddenly remembered that this Elf elder before him was the master of the Grey Havens, a being who held the title of "Shipwright."

How could he not have a fleet of ships under his command?

After this realization, Allen slowly sat down and said with a look of relief, "Indeed, we do not need to be particularly anxious."

However, what puzzled Allen was how Cirdan had managed to send his orders back to the Grey Havens.

Soon, Cirdan smiled and explained why they had to wait, for before leaving the Brown Lands, he had already asked the Eagle King to carry his message back to Mithlond.

If there were no accidents, his fleet should be arriving at Gondor soon.

It was at this very moment that the bright moonlight shone upon the undulating surface of the sea.

Dozens of Small Sailboats, emitting a faint white light, were cutting through the waves on the sea near Belfalas.

On every small boat stood several Lindon Elves holding silver-white Longbows; their sharp eyes were fixed intently ahead, and their bodies stood as steadily on the rising and falling ships as if they were on solid ground.

Following behind the small boats were five beautifully crafted Large Sailboats, their silver-white sails filled with sea breeze, and over a dozen Elves were busy on the decks.

The Ballistae placed along the sides of the ships were already drawn, operated by the most experienced crew members, and large Arrows with gleaming tips were set upon the Ballistae, ready to fire at any moment.

At the top of the sailboats, a long silver-white Flag fluttered in the wind; if one looked closely, a bright blue six-pointed star was depicted upon it.

This was the Elf fleet that had set out from the Grey Havens after receiving the message.

Although their numbers could not be compared to the massive scale of the pirate fleet.

The Elves' meticulously crafted sailboats far exceeded the notorious Umbar Pirates in speed and agility on the sea.

In fact, this Elf fleet had been sailing south with the wind, having already annihilated several small pirate fleets that were harassing the coastal areas of Gondor.

Even now, there were still three pitch-black pirate ships ahead of them, fleeing in panic across the sea.

But this form of escape was ultimately useless.

As time passed, the dozens of Small Sailboats of the Elf fleet, moving at high speed, had already surrounded the three fleeing pirate ships.

The captains of the pirates, realizing they had no hope of escape, shouted loudly in a strange language, trying to boost the morale of themselves and their surrounding subordinates.

After a brief chaos, a large number of crew members gripped the black Hard Bows in their hands and came to the edge of the deck, preparing to deal a lethal blow to the approaching Elves.

However, the sharp eyes of the Elves detected the enemy's movements immediately, and the speed at which the sailboats approached the enemy slowed down.

"Whoosh," "whoosh," "whoosh," "whoosh."

One emerald-green Arrow after another shot out from the Elves' silver-white Longbows, striking toward the pirates who were preparing to resist.

Most of the pirates became souls under the arrows before they could even clearly see the figures of the Elves in the moonlight.

The pirates operating the Ballistae received special attention, as over a dozen Arrows covered his position with fire.

Some tough and irritable pirates, having survived the first wave of arrow rain by luck, still thought of operating the Ballista to counterattack the Elves.

Yet, the moment his hand touched the Ballista, he was pinned like a hedgehog by the Arrows flying from afar.

Under this naked threat, no other pirate dared to approach the Ballista; the pirates, gripped by fear, even threw the bows and arrows in their hands onto the deck.

No matter how their captains shouted, these surviving pirates had no intention of picking up their bows and arrows.

In just a brief moment, more than half of their companions around them had died; what was there left to resist?

They could not even see who the enemy was.

Seeing that the enemy had no intention of continuing to resist, the Elves stopped shooting.

No matter which race of Elves they were, they did not have the habit of bloodlust; as long as the enemy was no longer resisting, the Elves were quite willing to spare the lives of Humans.

Of course, when dealing with Orcish, they did not have so much mercy to bestow.

Seeing that the enemy was no longer moving and even the ships had stopped moving forward, a portion of the Elf sailboats began to approach the pirate ships again.

The rest drifted in the distance, remaining vigilant at all times, as they had to guard against any counterattack from the enemies on the ships.

A few sailboats moved rapidly forward, as they needed to scout whether there were any other enemy figures on the sea.

As the ships of both sides gradually approached, the nimble figures of the Elves continuously leaped onto the black pirate ships.

The pirates on one of the ships had suffered heavy losses in the previous rain of arrows and had completely given up resistance.

As for the other two, intense chaos still erupted when the Elves boarded the ships.

However, the shouts raised by the battle lasted for a very short time.

In such a confined space, the Elves' exquisite and agile combat techniques completely suppressed these pirates.

After all, they were only ordinary Humans; even if some had the bloodline of the Numenoreans, it had become so thin that it could be completely ignored.

Failure was their only outcome.

At this time, the Elf fleet, in the process of pursuing the enemy, had already arrived near the Bay of Belfalas.

Lebennin in the distance was also not peaceful tonight.

The sky near Pelargir had already been turned red by the glow of fire.