Chapter 269: Untitled I

When that blood wolf flag representing Lagash disappeared from this valley, the war had already ended. Even the dark clouds in the sky no longer continued to roll, which showed that the evil power hidden in the dark had also lost patience and mercilessly abandoned the claws and teeth that believed in it.

Soon, sunlight shone through the gaps in the clouds, incidentally causing a cave Troll fleeing in panic to turn into rock on the spot, while the more agile Orcs scattered in a flurry with the Wargs when the situation could no longer be maintained.

They were originally an army gathered from many tribes. When there was a distinct flag to command them, they could naturally gather together to do things. However, today the flag fell first, and the commander who brought them confidence also disappeared without a trace, so falling apart was an inevitable result.

The dwarf infantry who had just stepped onto the battlefield were running wildly everywhere, hunting down the enemies they had confronted for many years—those Orcs who were fleeing in all directions.

At this moment, the entire valley, besides the dwarves' roars, was filled with the wails of Orcs before death.

In such a noisy environment, Allen, who had just arranged the post-war matters for his subordinates, began to search among the crowd for his old friend, the dwarf king who had forced him to come.

"Bofur, you take Oin to search the battlefield. Give priority to taking care of the wounded. The sacrificed clansmen must also all be found. Their courage and loyalty deserve a grand funeral."

"Kili, I need you to go and bring the goats back. There are too many things here that need their help."

"Gloin, take people to gather the warriors. Today's battle has already ended. Don't let any unexpected situations arise because of anger."

Watching the few who received orders turn and leave one after another, Thorin, somewhat exhausted, took a deep breath and began to ponder, looking at the battlefield littered with corpses.

Thorin's mood at this time was much more relieved than before the battle. This decisive battle caused heavy losses to the Orcs, which could be considered to have thoroughly solved the predicament the dwarves were facing at this time.

In the days to come, with the help of humans, the Orcs of the Grey Mountains would no longer be able to pose a threat to him. So, according to his plan, the next step was to reclaim the holy land of the Durin clan, Mount Gundabad, which had been occupied by Orcs for a long time.

And after a moment, Thorin, having finished pondering, pressed his left hand on the Orc corpse beneath his buttocks and stood up slowly, then said to the tallest dwarf beside him.

"Dwalin, take me to find Allen. Such timely and powerful support must be thanked to our allies in person."

And just as the words of the King under the Mountain fell, Allen, whose silver armor was full of bloodstains, had already arrived before him. On his exhausted face, not a trace of joy could be seen, and his tightly furrowed brows clearly revealed a trace of dissatisfaction and anger.

It was as if this battle had not been won.

"Thorin, now is not the time to say these things. Our subordinates all need a warm and dry environment for treatment and recuperation. Regardless, we should leave here as fast as possible. Even if we have won the battle, this mountain area is not a safe place."

The speed of this sentence was extremely rapid and carried a trace of blame.

Where did Allen have the time and mood now to say these useless diplomatic words to Thorin? The strange black clouds that suddenly appeared and suddenly disappeared in the sky filled his heart with worry.

There must be some strange trick of the enemy hidden behind this battle. Orcs did not have the ability to summon wind and rain.

At this moment, even if a cold dragon that was evil and powerful rushed down from the hillside, Allen would not feel the slightest surprise.

Because from the dark clouds in the sky, it could be seen that the opponent he and Thorin were facing at this time was no longer just the Orcs of the Grey Mountains, but the Dark Lord who was entrenched far away in Mordor but had stretched his evil claws to this place.

That was an evil Maia with many means. Even Allen himself could not fully know how many means this most powerful evil head of Middle-earth had not yet used.

Perhaps, that fellow was watching here through the Palantir at this moment, and in his heart, he was calculating some unknown evil conspiracy.

Therefore, leaving here as soon as possible was always the right thing to do.

"We can go to the Grey-Cold Outpost. In the days of the past, my clansmen built a series of outposts in the nearby tunnels as watchtowers to guard the kingdom. We can go there to rest, but before that, we need to take care of the wounded and clean up the battlefield. I have already arranged things. Believe me, Allen, everyone can leave here very soon."

Thorin certainly heard the anger on Allen's face and the dissatisfaction in his words. However, the King under the Mountain did not mean to be angry, because he was indeed in the wrong on this matter, and could even be said to have violated the agreement with Allen.

Originally, in the plan agreed upon by both sides, this campaign to reclaim the Grey Mountains should have been based on scouting and probing in the early stages, and the total war would have been fully launched a few years after Greiburg was completely repaired.

At that time, humans would have a stable and well-defended rear, and the over a thousand soldiers Allen brought would have enough time to adapt to mountain combat, which would also allow them to fully exert their due combat effectiveness.

And everything in the plan was disrupted by Thorin, who was keen on adventure, which led to Allen, who came to support, having to launch a dangerous decisive battle against the Orcs on this unfamiliar land under unavoidable circumstances.

At this moment, the result was naturally good. After all, they won, but Allen paid a huge price for this.

Just what Thorin saw with his own eyes, hundreds of heavy cavalry who charged the formation suffered heavy casualties. Facing the large number of Orcs and groups of Trolls, those who could still stand at this time could be said to be less than one in ten.

The infantry who were besieged by the Orcs were not much better. Even if they fought desperately, at least one-third of them fell.

Facing such huge losses, Allen just spoke somewhat impolitely, which was already giving enough face. After all, Thorin was just stubborn, not stupid.

"Fine."

Seeing that Thorin had already made plans to evacuate, Allen's complexion could be considered to have eased somewhat. He was really worried that the stubborn dwarves would chase the fleeing Orcs relentlessly, which would likely lead to some accidents and drag everyone into the vortex of war again.

Facing the evil threatening Middle-earth, the war had to be fought, but it definitely was not fought like this.

"Your wounded here can be arranged together with my subordinates. There are professional medical personnel in my team. After I recover, I will also provide treatment for everyone."

After saying this, Allen dragged his exhausted body and turned to leave. He really did not have extra strength and mind to reminisce with his old friend with whom he had lived and died. There were still many, many things that needed him to complete.

First, he had to rest for a while to recover the strength he had already exhausted.

And Thorin did not try to keep him. He looked at his old friend's back, and a trace of guilt appeared in his eyes, but it soon disappeared, replaced by firmness and coldness.

Whether it was the battle-hardened dwarf warriors or the well-trained human soldiers, they were no strangers to cleaning up the battlefield.

It was just that the urgent orders and exhausted bodies left them no time to care about the enemy's corpses, so they could only let these sources that might cause a plague be piled up randomly in the muddy land.

Fortunately, the Grey Mountains were located in the northernmost part of Middle-earth, and the cool climate meant these corpses would not rot very quickly. After a day or two, naturally, someone would pile them together and then use a big fire to burn these future troubles.

The dwarves who sacrificed in this battle were carried by the Great Horned Goats that had returned. Regardless of status, as long as there was an opportunity, dwarves were to be buried in stone tombs, and in most cases, they would be buried with the weapons or tools they liked most during their lifetime.

On the human side, under Allen's order, those Lion-Hunting Knights who were still standing carried the over a hundred dead soldiers on their horses. Holimion would take them back along the mountain road to Greiburg for cremation, and then bring the ashes and pension to their relatives.

With the busyness of the warriors, the originally noisy valley became quiet again. The originally clear sky was covered by a dark cloud again, and then, a fine rain with a bit of light fell from the clouds, pouring onto the warriors who were seriously injured and constantly groaning.

In the rain, the soldiers who were seriously injured felt that the pain from their wounds was no longer so intense. Those who suffered minor injuries looked at their slowly healing wounds and revealed light expressions. This was not the first time they had encountered such a thing, so there was nothing to make a fuss about.

As for the dwarves, they looked at everything happening before them in disbelief, and then gathered together to start whispering.

Long ago, there were some rumors in the Lonely Mountain that the human king who ruled Rhovanion understood some powerful magic as if he were a wizard. At this moment, they could be considered to have seen it with their own eyes.

However, due to Allen's status and the relationship between the two sides, these dwarves whose jaws dropped did not make any excessive moves, just chattering and discussing, occasionally stealing a glance at the human king who had his arms spread out.

"Set off, let's go, let's go." The herald began to pass the orders of the two kings in the crowd, and the packed team also moved their steps, preparing to leave this battlefield full of blood.

Since the evil dragon began to ravage the Grey Mountains hundreds of years ago, the roads here had lost maintenance and turned into paths gathered by rubble and weeds. Humans and dwarves walked windingly upward under the afterglow of the setting sun with somewhat heavy steps. Silence was the main melody at this time.

Although the joy brought by victory was long-lasting, the groans of the wounded and the voices and faces of the dead constantly affected the team, making everyone's mood have to become serious.

After the troops bypassed a giant rock in the valley, golden sunlight sprinkled on a broken staircase, and a cave entrance with a tall arch stood before people's eyes.

The exquisite lines on the rock told of the prosperity and glory of this place in the past, but several thick claw marks also told everyone what this place had encountered.

Allen stood still here for a while, looking up at the claw marks on the arch, using this to compare with Smaug in his memory.

Even the claws were thicker on that last fire-breathing dragon of Middle-earth. After a thought flashed through his heart, Allen led the team into the cave.

The darkness in the tunnel was not quiet. A long snake composed of torches startled one after another of the creatures hanging upside down in the cave. The fluttering movement came from a large group of bats inhabiting here.

And after trekking in the darkness for about an hour, the entire team arrived at the Grey-Cold Outpost in Thorin's words.

Here, there were broken ruins and stones flying everywhere. A foul-smelling odor and tattered tents scattered everywhere indicated that this place should have been the Orcs' territory not long ago.

However, these fellows who were routed should have fled toward the west, and probably would not dare to return here.

Posting guards, lighting fires, setting up camp, settling the wounded, taking care of mounts, cleaning up the traces left by the Orcs—these routine matters during the march only needed an order, and those officers would complete these tasks according to past experience.

Soon, iron pots were set up on the bonfires, and the fragrance of meat soup drifted through these ruins.

The warriors who had fought in the rain for a long time and marched hard in the mountains for three hours, at this time, having a bowl of hot soup was always right, and then paired with the military rations Allen specially brought, a kind of baked very dry bread similar to naan, which was enough to satisfy the soldiers' grumbling stomachs.

Especially the dwarves, who ate slurping. In fact, they had started military ration control very early, especially since they were still raising hundreds of sheep. To let these mounts fight in armor, just feeding them grass was definitely not enough, so life seemed somewhat difficult.

Especially since the Grey Mountains area had been ravaged by numerous evil dragons for a long time, plus Orcs and Wargs were also ravaging here. Therefore, there were basically no large animal groups living in the mountains. Only those fierce beasts with extremely strong abilities and living alone had not abandoned this place, which led to the dwarves finding it very difficult to hunt.

When a bowl of hot thick soup went down, while dispelling the cold and fatigue of the body, it also aroused people's interest in chatting.

Some human soldiers were already acquainted with dwarf warriors. In the Lonely Mountain, in the east of Mirkwood, they had fought side by side many times. Meeting in the mountains at this time, they could not help but take out the wine bags hidden at their waists and reminisce with old friends they had known for a long time, chatting about the situation here.

However, whether it was three or five people gathered together, or ten or more people talking, they very tacitly stayed away from the center of the outpost. Even the soldiers on guard nearby were moving their steps bit by bit.

Because the two kings who ruled Rhovanion and the Lonely Mountain were having a fierce debate at this time. Everyone did not want to be involved in this quarrel, even listening to it would make them feel that the trouble in the future might be endless. ===== CHAPTER 270 =====