Chapter 196: Cleaning the Battlefield

The Anduin River, flowing ceaselessly, grows wider the closer it gets to the boundless Belegaer.

Having flowed to the vicinity of Pelargir, the river is more than three times as wide as it was at the Carrock.

A dilapidated, large camp stands on the bank of the Anduin River, from which the sounds of scolding and intermittent soft sobbing emerge from time to time.

This is the camp of Dol Amroth, which was taken by force by the Orcish; besides a garrison of Snaga, it also holds the Humans they have abducted from the nearby area, and the scolding and sobbing originate from them.

A flag representing Minas Mogu'er is fluttering above the camp; it is a pure black flag with a moon twisted into a deathly grimace emblazoned upon it.

Any Gondorian who understands its meaning would, in addition to the terror, mourn the former Minas Ithil.

Under the moonlight, two figures, one black and one white, are rapidly approaching the camp.

They are the frantically fleeing Witch-king of Angmar and Allen, who is continuously catching up.

The Noldorin Rune Sword in Allen's hand is currently flashing with a fierce light, and as the Elf Horse gallops to catch up, he slashes violently at the Witch-king of Angmar fleeing ahead.

Facing the white blade that makes his soul tremble, the Witch-king of Angmar dares not take the blow head-on and hurriedly directs his mount to dodge to the right.

At the same time, he swings his left hand violently, and the flail, radiating a terrifying aura, flies toward Allen.

Facing the heavy and powerful attack of the flail, Allen swings the Noldor Enchanted Shield strapped to his left arm violently to the left.

"Clang."

The rapidly sweeping flail is blocked and sent flying by the silver-white shield on Allen's left arm amidst a trail of sparks.

The defensive power of the Noldor Enchanted Shield is extremely strong, and Allen also knows some techniques for using a shield to dissipate force; blocking such an attack is nothing to Allen.

At the same time, the direction in which the Elf Horse is running also shifts slightly to the right after being attacked.

This helps his Knight dissipate a portion of the flail's power, allowing Allen to remain securely seated in the saddle.

The skillful movement is as if this scene has happened many times before.

It has indeed happened many times, after Allen used his power to eliminate the curse the Witch-king of Angmar placed on the mount.

He soon catches up with the Witch-king of Angmar fleeing in front again, pulls the Sapphire Rune Bow in his hand, and launches an attack on the enemy before him.

However, the arrow emitting blue light does not cause the slightest harm to the Witch-king of Angmar.

Because the Witch-king of Angmar's eerie and terrifying voice causes the arrow in flight to shatter.

Or it is intercepted by a Shadow flying out from the Witch-king's body.

The Shadow flying in the air has eyes with an abnormally cold glimmer, and its pair of pitch-black, sharp claws, while intercepting the arrow, are actually able to emit the sound of metal colliding.

And after intercepting the arrow flying toward the Witch-king, the Shadow even makes a move as if to pounce on Allen.

But the magic contained within the arrow turns it into a heavy lump of ice, which then falls to the ground and shatters into pieces.

Just like this, the dozen or so Noldor Rune Arrows Allen carries are soon depleted by the various Dark Magic of the Witch-king of Angmar.

And Allen currently has no way to purchase this type of special arrow.

Since then, Allen has relied on the speed of the Elf Horse to entangle with the fleeing Witch-king of Angmar using the Rune Sword in his hand.

But the effect is not very good; for one thing, the Witch-king of Angmar's technique for controlling his horse to dodge attacks is extremely high, and the attack range of the flail in his hand is both far and wide.

This makes it difficult for Allen to gain an advantage in melee combat, while other weapons, such as a spear with a longer attack distance, are difficult to conduct the power within his body.

For a time, the two are deadlocked.

In fact, the Witch-king of Angmar at this moment is also feeling very helpless; he is already at the end of his rope.

The Dark servants and evil arts he prepared have been mostly consumed by Allen's blue-light-flashing arrows.

Otherwise, a Witch-king proficient in various evil arts and Dark Magic would never have resorted to using a flail to fight a Human who could threaten his life.

For the leader of the Nazgul, who treasures his life, this is truly a very dangerous matter.

However, the Witch-king of Angmar, currently fleeing for his life, has already seen that flag belonging to Minas Mogu'er.

And the Snaga guarding the camp have already gathered into a squad and rushed out from the north gate of the camp.

Seeing that the Orcish in the camp have been alarmed by him, Allen, with a deep frown, looks even more serious.

He extends the arm strapped with the shield and points at the Witch-king of Angmar fleeing in front.

Wisps of electric light begin to gather in Allen's left hand, gradually emitting an extremely rich white light.

The Witch-king of Angmar, running ahead, immediately feels a scorching aura appear behind him.

And merely this aura, like lightning, makes the Witch-king's back, protected by evil armor, feel intense pain.

Terrified in his heart, when the Witch-king of Angmar looks back, a huge, forked lightning bolt fills his incredulous eyes.

Facing such terrifying Magic, the panic-stricken Witch-king of Angmar abandons his armor in an instant and turns into a wraith, drifting toward the distance.

And that lightning bolt directly blasts the armor and the black horse left in place into a pile of dilapidated things.

At this moment, the Witch-king of Angmar, now like a ghost, looks back at his equipment and horse with lingering fear while fleeing, and the speed at which his figure drifts becomes even faster.

Soon, a massive figure flies up from the center of the camp.

It is just that it is swaying as it flies, seemingly unable to control its own body.

And the sharp-eyed Allen sees a pale shadow on the back of the Fell Beast; it is the Witch-king of Angmar, who is fleeing for his life.

Every time he detaches from the armor bestowed by his master, the Witch-king of Angmar must endure extreme pain, as if a layer of his soul is being forcibly stripped away.

But enduring pain is still better than disappearing.

Moreover, the Witch-king of Angmar's original plan was to detach from the armor and then pay a certain price to drift directly across the Anduin River and return to his master's side.

It is just that without the constraints of the armor, the Witch-king of Angmar always feels that the river surface tonight is unusually dangerous.

It is as if a powerful existence, hostile toward him, is watching him intently from within the river water.

The cautious Witch-king finally decides to rely on his mount to fly from the sky to the opposite bank of the Anduin River.

With a layer of protection, at the very least, if something goes wrong, he can use the Fell Beast to gain some reaction time.

And Allen, galloping along the river bank, takes out his Sapphire Rune Bow once again.

And while galloping, he pulls the bowstring to its full extent, aims at the Fell Beast flying in the air, and shoots his final Noldor arrow.

The arrow emitting blue light looks just like a shooting star, tracing an extremely conspicuous trajectory in the air, and in an instant, it sinks into the long neck of the Fell Beast.

The Fell Beast, currently in flight, felt a boundless chill spreading from its neck toward its brain after a burst of pain.

Its entire neck had been frozen solid.

This caused the Fell Beast, which was already flying unsteadily, to completely lose the ability to control its body.

After a brief glide, its massive frame plummeted headlong from the sky.

"Boom!"

A large splash erupted on the surface of the river.

In Allen's field of vision, that pale figure, using some unknown method, floated in the air for a moment and landed right on the opposite bank of the great river.

It stared at him from across the water.

"The humiliation you have inflicted upon me this day, I shall repay a hundredfold; your body shall be gnawed to nothingness, and your soul shall inevitably fall into boundless darkness."

A shrill, unpleasant voice rang in Allen's ears; he knew it was the voice of the Witch-king.

However, Allen did not possess this ability similar to long-distance telepathy; riding on his horse, he could only shout toward the opposite bank.

"Crawl back to your master, and it would be best if you never come out again!

"

The pale figure then dissipated in a gust of wind, vanishing as if without a trace.

At this moment, besides the small squad of Snaga that had emerged from the camp at the beginning, hundreds more Shadows also darted out from the camp and charged toward Allen's side.

Bullying the few with the many was, after all, a traditional virtue of the Orcish.

The twenty Griffin Knights who had been following closely behind Allen also arrived at their King's side from afar.

Because he had failed to intercept the Witch-king, Allen, feeling extremely frustrated, drew the Noldorin Rune Sword at his waist in anger, pointed at the large group of Snaga in the distance, and roared loudly: "Follow me and finish them off."

Saying this, he took the lead and charged toward the Orcish army not far away; before making contact, several blinding bolts of lightning were already wreaking havoc within the Orcish ranks.

Allen and the Griffin Knights also charged directly into the enemy's ranks at this moment.

These hundreds of Orcish were completely stunned by such an attack.

In just a quarter of an hour, there were no more Orcish left standing before Allen's eyes.

After clearing the enemies before him, the group of twenty-plus riders charged toward the camp that was now right before their eyes.

To root out evil completely is the only righteous path.

One hour later, the figure of Allen riding his Elf Horse appeared near Pelargir.

At this time, he gave the Elf Horse that had accompanied him for a long time a name.

Zhuilieh!

It signified his determination to never give up on hunting down the Witch-king.

The twenty Griffin Knights who had originally followed Allen were currently tending to the Humans captives rescued from the camp.

Therefore, their speed was somewhat slower compared to Allen's.

However, this did not matter, because the evil in these surroundings had already been swept clean by the Elf and the Humans, and there would be no more danger.

On the city gate of Pelargir, a young man with an anxious look on his face was staring fixedly toward the south.

This was the young Adrahil; at this moment, he had been waiting eagerly for Allen at the gate of Pelargir for a full half-hour.

The anxious heir to the princedom had originally wanted to ride out to find Allen, but under Aragorn's persuasion, he abandoned this idea.

Because when Allen charged out, it was to hunt down the enemy commander, but after communicating with Berilach, Aragorn already knew what kind of existence that Witch-king was.

Therefore, he believed that if Adrahil chased out at this time, it would likely have the opposite effect on Lord Allen's battle.

Even with the bloodline of the Elf, he was only an ordinary warrior.

Aragorn told Adrahil that even if someone truly needed to go, it should be a powerful existence like Lord Cirdan.

But Cirdan smiled and refused Adrahil's request, signaling the young man before him not to be anxious.

At the same time, he told him that Lord Angalimir possessed the bloodline of the Elf, so his light of life remained resilient and was enough to wait for Allen's return.

And Allen, in fact, was already on his way back.

Therefore, Adrahil, hoping his father could receive treatment as soon as possible, kept waiting for Allen's return at the city gate.

By the time Allen's figure appeared near Pelargir, a large number of Humans warriors and residents were cleaning up the battlefield outside the city.

They needed to carry their own wounded soldiers to the infirmary within the city for treatment.

As for those soldiers who sacrificed themselves on the battlefield to defend their homes and loved ones.

The residents would tidy up their appearances, and after everything was properly arranged, bury them with great ceremony.

And those Humans soldiers wielding weapons in their hands would deliver finishing blows to the Orcish that were not yet dead.

At the same time, they would perform simple processing on the dead Orcish, which was actually looting.

Then, they would pile the corpses of these enemies who had no steel on them in one place and use a great fire to purify these servants of the great enemy.

Meanwhile, squads of Elf Cavalry were still patrolling the perimeter of the battlefield, performing guard duties to facilitate rapid support should any disturbance arise.

For example, one Troll that had not died completely almost killed a dozen ordinary residents surrounding it when it woke up.

Allen, returning from the south, looked on in bewilderment as the surrounding residents bowed and saluted him one after another.

At this time, he did not yet know that his and Cirdan's names had spread throughout all of Pelargir, and even the children who had not yet gone to sleep were calling the two of them "the saviors who stopped the descent of evil."

Allen's confusion, of course, did not last long, because Malherbe, who was the first to greet him, soon gave a simple report on the specific situation of the battle and what had happened after the fighting.

To summarize simply: following the Witch-king's escape, the enemies outside the city of Pelargir were soon wiped out in one fell swoop by the Humans, Elf, and Dwarf who had come to support.

Moreover, during the post-battle exchanges, Malherbe briefly recounted to the officials of Pelargir how farsighted, wise, and decisive his Majesty the King was.

Upon learning that Gondor had fallen into crisis, he had unhesitatingly led his elite forces and, accompanying Lord Cirdan who controlled Lindon, traveled ten thousand miles to the south.

He also recounted the hardships and difficulties along the way, especially the battle with the enemy in the Brown Lands, which he described in immense detail.

In addition to Allen's bravery and skill in battle, Malherbe also spoke very clearly about that mercy toward soldiers, to the point that he almost told these officials to their faces.

"My Majesty the King possesses unparalleled medical skills; if you have need, you may request his help, and I guarantee that he, in his mercy, will absolutely not refuse this request."

Naturally, such news quickly reached the ears of Adrahil.

At this moment, he was keeping watch by his father's side, looking at his father whose face was already shrouded in a gray shadow.

Regarding this news, it was as if he had grasped at a final straw, eagerly hoping for the return of Allen.

When Allen learned of all this from the mouth of Malherbe, he was both suddenly enlightened and somewhat unable to laugh or cry.

However, he did not think there was anything wrong with Malherbe's actions.

Because there was no element of deception in Malherbe's words; he was merely recounting some facts and then excessively praising the king he served.

But this was harmless, because Allen would indeed not refuse Adrahil's request.

Moreover, he also had a certain level of confidence that he could save the unconscious Angalimir.

Because at this time, the Prince still had several decades of lifespan, and his sufficient vitality was enough to support Allen's treatment of him.