Chapter 5: Saving People

Under the pitch-black sky, a squad of Wolf Riders was wandering across the Wilderness with over a hundred captives.

Their filthy faces were full of smug satisfaction; the bright, sunny weather this morning had been truly terrible for the Orcs, and they had achieved nothing after harassing the village all night.

After daybreak, they had been forced to retreat, but unexpectedly, the sky soon became overcast with dark clouds. Aided by the weather, the Wolf Riders turned back and launched a surprise attack, catching the village off guard and breaking its defenses. The men capable of fighting back were slaughtered to the last, and the entire village was burned to the ground by them.

Now, they were taking the remaining old, weak, women, and children, following the orders of their leader, the Orc King, and heading toward Dolguldur, intending to present the captives in their hands as tribute to Sauron, who was cultivating his forces there.

At this moment, Allen, who was leading his troops in pursuit, crossed a ridge and discovered their figures; the distance between the two sides was less than one kilometer.

"Chase them down, kill them."

Shouting, Allen spurred his horse and led the others to charge toward the Orcs.

A surprise attack was, of course, impossible. In fact, the sound of horses running is very loud; even when treading on soft ground, the commotion of over twenty galloping riders was enough to alert the sharp-eared Wargs.

Facing the charge of Allen and his men, the Orcs' troop came to a halt.

Soon, an Orc whose body and mount were far more robust than the other Wolf Riders rode out from the crowd. He brandished the weapon in his hand, shouted a few times, and then led the majority of the Wolf Riders to launch a counterattack against Allen and his men.

Meanwhile, the remaining Wolf Riders brandished the whips in their hands, driving the hundred-plus Humans to move quickly toward the south.

The two sides' troops were rapidly closing in under the gloomy black clouds.

At this moment, Allen, charging at the very front of the formation, was in a strange state of mind.

He thought he should be excited, afraid, or at the very least, his hands should be shaking. Yet, none of that was happening; his right hand, gripping the Heavy Cavalry Lance, was incredibly steady. His mind kept flashing with what to pay attention to during a charge, how to face cavalry, how to face infantry, and how to handle it when the enemy threw trash or shot at you, as if his body were in turn telling his brain what to do.

This gave Allen a sense of detachment, as if his body were not under his own command and he were actually just a spectator.

He watched as the Rhodok Sharpshooters on horseback fired at the fifty or sixty Wolf Riders opposite them, watched them hang their Siege Crossbows on the hooks of their saddles, and draw their Straight Blade Scimitars backhanded to continue the charge.

He watched Desaiwei on the edge of the formation continuously drawing her bow and shooting at the enemies' mounts; every time she drew her bow, a Warg would tumble to the ground. He watched Cress quickly throw the javelins in his hand at the approaching enemies; every javelin caused a Warg to lose its rider.

He watched Fatis, Alayen, Yamila, and a dozen or so Swadian Knights brandishing their weapons, following closely behind him.

Finally, he watched himself spur his horse to accelerate, rushing toward that exceptionally tall Orc, exerting force through his right arm, and quickly poking a lance directly through the opponent's skull.

Pulling the reins with his left hand, the Warhorse beneath him dodged nimbly, letting the Warg's bite pass by. Allen immediately pressed down hard with his right arm, driving the lance into the chest of the second enemy coming his way.

Subsequently, he let go of the lance, casually drew his Knightly Longsword, and with a downward slash, killed a Warg that wanted to ambush his mount. With a final right-handed cut, an Orc head flew straight up.

With no more enemies in sight, Allen galloped forward for several dozen meters, reined in his horse, and rested for a good while before he felt he had regained control of his body. With no time to think, he hurriedly drove his horse to turn, preparing to support his subordinates.

However, the battle was already over; the two cavalry units had decided the outcome in a single clash. Only Cress and Desaiwei were still chasing a small number of Wolf Riders and Wargs that had begun to flee in all directions.

The combat effectiveness of Orcs is very low, especially the Orcs of the Misty Mountains; they are thin and small, with hunched backs and long claws.

Of course, they are also minions of Sauron, and during the War of the Ring, they, along with the Orcs of Gundabad, pinned down the Elves in Mirkwood.

But their weapons and equipment were truly too poor; Sauron was essentially just letting them fend for themselves.

He only thought of them when there was dirty or tiring work to be done, and there were almost no benefits to speak of. It was only because Azog ruled Moria and was close enough to Dolguldur that he could receive the big boss's care.

In reality, Sauron's direct subordinates were the Orcs active in Mordor and Dolguldur; the troops in these two places had better equipment and sufficient combat capability.

Therefore, even if the Orcs riding Wargs charged head-on against the elite led by Allen, they were destined to be routed in a short time.

And Allen's subordinates were actually not much better off; all eight Rhodok Sharpshooters were lying on the ground, life or death unknown. After all, they were not professional cavalry; they were likely just Riding Skill Level 2 scrubs.

There were also three or four Swadian Knights standing in formation on the ground. Their horses had been surrounded and attacked by Wargs during the battle, but they had superb riding skills; even when their horses were attacked and fell, they could still react quickly, find fellow soldiers who had also fallen, and fight together. At this moment, only half of the companions who were still on horseback remained compared to when they arrived.

"Fatis, Fatis, take all the Si Qi who are still on their horses and follow me to continue the pursuit. Everyone else, clean up the battlefield!!"

Allen roared to convey his orders. He knew he hadn't come here to kill these Orcs; saving people was the real goal.

Hearing the order, Fatis shouted for the Si Qi to follow, and Allen turned to lead them in pursuit of the remaining Orcs.

The dozen or so remaining Wolf Riders saw that their main force had been wiped out and actually drew their weapons to begin slaughtering the captives. After one round of slaughter, seeing Allen leading men to press in quickly, the Wolf Riders abandoned the surviving captives and fled in all directions.

Allen led the cavalry to chase directly after the largest group of enemies.

However, in short-distance running, the speed of horses does not have an advantage compared to these descendants of vicious wolves. Moreover, the horses were also very tired; after carrying Allen and his men on a long journey and then engaging in a fierce battle, they were truly unable to continue chasing these fleeing scum.

Seeing the enemy getting further and further away, Allen stopped the pursuit and returned to the side of the captives with his men.

After being slaughtered by the Orcs for one round, there were still nearly a hundred captives left. A glance over them revealed no sign of any adult men; they were all old, weak, women, and children.

Allen, riding on his horse, scanned the women and children who were cowering and afraid to speak in the face of the great upheaval, and shouted loudly:

"Who is in charge here? Find someone who can speak and bring them out."

There was a commotion in the crowd, and an old woman with white hair, a hunched back, and a face full of wrinkles walked out. She bowed and thanked Allen, who was sitting on his horse, very humbly. After standing up, she said gratefully: "Respected Lord, thank you for coming from afar without fear of hardship to save us and let us escape our tragic fate. May I be so bold as to ask, are you lords from Rohan or from Long Lake Town?"

Allen looked at this old woman who was older than his own grandmother, hurriedly dismounted, and came to the old woman's side.

He said softly: "We are neither from Rohan nor from Long Lake Town. I led my people to migrate here from a very far place, intending to settle in this region."

Upon hearing this, a flash of surprise crossed the old woman's aged face, and she said: "Lord, this is not a good decision. The Orcs of the Misty Mountains have started to become active again. Ever since the great battle between the Dwarf and the Orcs many years ago, the Orcs of the Misty Mountains had been quiet for a long time. It was also at that time that my grandfather's grandfather's grandfather led our people to settle in the forest near the Old Ford. It has always been relatively safe here. When I was young, I often gathered fruits in the forest and caught fish by the river with other children. I didn't expect that we would only have such a short time of stability..."

The old woman was dazed for a moment, felt in her heart that she shouldn't have said these things, and hurriedly apologized: "I'm sorry, Lord. Once people get old, they just like to ramble on about useless things."

Allen waved his hand to indicate it didn't matter, thinking to himself, how are these words useless? They are very useful. But he asked aloud: "Then what are your plans for the future? I can arrange for people to send you back."

The old woman cheered up slightly, her face full of worry. She looked at the young leader before her with cloudy eyes, then looked back at the survivors, and said sorrowfully: "What other plans can there be? The village has been destroyed, and the men capable of fighting have been slaughtered to the last. Only these women and children remain. If you, Lord, are willing to shelter us, we hope to start a new life under your authority."

Allen thought for a moment and felt he could agree to this request. He hadn't thought too far ahead about the later development of his troop; the time he had been here was truly too short. As for whether to settle here, there had to be some kind of explanation, right? Could he just tell everyone he met that he had transmigrated?

Allen's current idea was very simple: if this land had its own master, then Allen wouldn't mind being a vassal, as long as he had a certain degree of autonomy.

Moreover, the secular power structure in the Ring is no different from early medieval Europe.

There is no one here, I am living here, so this land is mine. If you don't accept it, we fight; whoever submits first loses. Although Allen was not very willing to have conflicts with Humans, Dwarfs, or Elves, he didn't mind snatching a piece of territory from the hands of the Orcs, even if the process was more troublesome and required more time.

Furthermore, through his conversation with the old grandmother before him, Allen had also roughly figured out his location.

The old woman mentioned the Orcs of the Misty Mountains and also mentioned that she lived near the Old Ford. If it really was the Misty Mountains and the nearby Old Ford that Allen knew, then the location was very clear.

This was the Wilderness on the east side of the Misty Mountains of the Central Continent. The ford the old woman mentioned connected the Old Ford of the Misty Mountains and the Old Mirkwood Road on the edge of the southern Mirkwood.

If it was still unclear, Thorin's Company in The Hobbit was attacked by Azog, and after the Great Eagle saved them, they were dropped at the Carrock nearby. It was just a bit far; if one walked another 60 kilometers north from here, they should arrive. Allen decided to go to this famous landmark to check in tomorrow.

In Allen's impression, this land between Mirkwood and the Misty Mountains had no master at this time, at least no major power.

Most of the Northern Men were gathered in the area of Dale on the northern edge of Mirkwood, and at most, there were some Woodland Residents who had established villages in the nearby forests.

The most formidable one should be Beorn near the Carrock. He was not an easy person to deal with, but he lived alone, and as far as Allen knew, his people were not numerous, or perhaps only he himself remained?

As for the Maia who also lived in this region, as long as one didn't destroy the environment on a large scale or disturb his life, Radagast wouldn't care about having one more neighbor like Allen and his men.

The current time is over a hundred years after the Battle of Dwarves and Orcs. For the Orcs to be this arrogant, it certainly cannot be after the Battle of the Five Armies, because that great battle also crushed the Orcs of the Misty Mountains, and they spent most of their time with their tails between their legs until the War of the Ring.

Then it must be before the Battle of the Five Armies. The Battle of the Five Armies should be a hundred and some odd years after the Battle of Dwarves and Orcs. Allen doesn't remember the specific time that clearly; the time span here is a bit long, and Allen cannot pinpoint the current year.

However, being able to come to the Third Age is a good thing. At the very least, Allen knows a little bit about the major events of this period. If he had gone to the First Age where gods fought, Allen wouldn't have the confidence to survive on a battlefield where Maia walked everywhere and Elves were as common as dogs.

Need one look no further than the time of The Two Towers, when the Ents besieged Isengard with the conviction of certain death; this is enough to show the intensity of the wars during the First Age.

As for the current situation, there is no way to go back anyway. If possible, Allen hopes to use his own efforts to shelter some of the disaster-stricken Northern Men in this era.

Moreover, he can witness one great event after another. Although he missed the War of the Ring, he can still participate in the Battle of the Five Armies. If there is a chance, he can also see the treasures left behind by the ancestors of Thorin Oakenshield and see that chatterbox dragon Smaug; that would also be very good. A movie is never as good as being there in person.

"We also just migrated to this place. For now, conditions might be a bit difficult, but my people will arrive here one after another. I think life will always get better and better. I mean, welcome to join us."

Due to a lack of any experience, Allen, with a somewhat awkward expression, formally responded to the old woman's request.

Hearing Allen agree to her request, the old woman managed a trace of a smile on her face and continued to force herself to say: "My lord, thank you for your kindness."

She paused and continued: "I am truly a senile old woman. I haven't introduced myself after all this time. My name is Doris Lesin; you can just call me Doris."

Allen nodded and replied: "Just call me Allen."

After speaking, he called over Fatis, who was bandaging the villagers, introduced the two parties to each other, and instructed Fatis to help Doris bury those killed by the Orcs, and to find a way to carry the wounded—who had already received emergency treatment from Fatis—back to the camp, saving as many as possible.

After arranging everything here, Allen got back on his horse and hurried back to the previous battlefield. From afar, he saw Yamila bandaging the wounds of three Luo gods sitting on the ground.

Alayen, meanwhile, was leading four Si Qi without horses and three Luo gods who could still move to pile up the enemies' corpses, preparing to burn them.

Desaiwei was keeping watch from a high vantage point. Seeing Allen return, she waved and greeted him. Cress, where is Cress? Oh, she is squatting by the pile of corpses looking for something.

Allen was a bit curious about what exactly Cress had found, but this was obviously not the most important thing at the moment. Reasonably and emotionally, Allen should first go check on the condition of the wounded.

Walking closer, Allen greeted Yamila, who was bandaging a wounded person, nodded in response to the greetings of the wounded, and then noticed two Luo gods nearby who had fallen into a coma. It could be seen that the blood on the faces of these two wounded had been cleaned by someone. They lay there motionless, and only their slightly rising chests could prove they were still alive.

Yamila finished the bandaging work in her hands, wiped the sweat from her face with a wave, and said with a smile: "My lord, you're back? How is the situation ahead?"

Allen looked at Yamila, who had blood all over her face without realizing it, and felt a bit strange. Why could Yamila, who was kind-hearted by nature in the game, still smile at a time like this? Could it be because she was used to life and death?

"The people have been saved, but the remaining scum escaped."

Allen answered Yamila's question, then squatted down and asked cautiously: "How are the casualties? These two...?"

Yamila was startled, and the smile on her face became even gentler: "My lord, what is wrong with you? Arnold and Arnold's brother are really lucky. When they fell, they only broke their heads—who told them to show off? They deserved it. If they had broken their necks, they wouldn't have been saved no matter what. Fortunately, they are only in a coma now; they should recover after lying down for a few days. This time we are really lucky; there are no companions who died directly."

As she spoke, Yamila's expression gradually became a bit lonely, "Unlike last time, when Yarman was shot in the head and just died like that."

If they don't die directly but fall into a coma, they can get better in a few days? Allen was momentarily unable to tell whether this was reality or a game.

However, since Yamila said so, Allen felt that he shouldn't be too surprised. He should observe more; this team is a bit strange. Afterwards, Allen comforted the wounded a few times, greeted Yamila, and prepared to find Cress to see what this little girl was looking for.

"Found anything fun?"

Allen, who had quietly stood behind Cress, suddenly said.

Cress, who was concentrating on looting the spoils of war, jumped forward violently after hearing the voice, and a Flying Dagger appeared in her hand quickly.

Then she turned her head and saw it was Allen, and an angry expression appeared on her dirty face: "Boss, don't talk like that behind my back suddenly. I was ready to throw a Flying Dagger at you. I throw very accurately, you know, swoosh swoosh swoosh swoosh swoosh." Cress said this while making the motion of throwing a Flying Dagger; of course, she definitely wouldn't really throw it.

After a while of fooling around, Cress took out a pendant from somewhere on her body. It was a small, rough piece of Sapphire, which had only undergone preliminary polishing, and there were still spots and dots of the outer skin in many places.

But this did not hinder its beauty. The exposed part was a deep sea blue, swaying slightly in Cress's hand, flashing with a charming light. A thin hemp rope was tied exactly in the depression of the Sapphire. Judging from the luster of the gemstone's skin, its former owner must have loved it very much.

"This is for you."

Saying this, Cress leaned close to Allen and said in a low voice: "Boss, don't be angry with me anymore, okay? Look, if it weren't for me, could we have saved so many people?"

Allen actually didn't have any thoughts of being angry; he was just making the reactions he felt were most appropriate in certain scenes to avoid arousing the suspicion of others in the team. However, up until now, Allen felt that he had performed okay, except that sometimes he felt he didn't quite look like himself.

Casually picking up the Sapphire in Cress's hand, Allen held it up to the sky to look at it. Unfortunately, it was a cloudy day; if the sunlight were good enough, this gemstone should be even more beautiful. Then he stretched out his hands and hung the gemstone around Cress's neck.

Although this gemstone was looted from a pile of dead people, Cress shouldn't care about such things, right? At least Allen didn't see any minding emotions on Cress's happy face.

Subconsciously pinching Cress's face, Allen was stunned for a moment, then reacted immediately and said with a smile: "You have to clean yourself up before you can go back." After speaking, he left in a happy mood.

Allen, who didn't want to do anything, returned to the vicinity of Yamila and sat down, chatting with the wounded, seemingly casually fishing for information from them, wanting to understand his past performance from their mouths.

As a result, before they had chatted for a few sentences, he saw the young man Alayen walking over, leading an Orc whose hands were tied and who was limping.

"My lord, this guy is still alive. Do you want to interrogate him?"

Alayen pulled the rope hard, and the Orc stumbled and knelt in front of Allen. Although he was kneeling, he looked at Allen with disdain.

Allen looked at the Orc kneeling before him expressionlessly. "Heh!" He sneered, stood up, grabbed his collar, and with a force, actually lifted him slowly from the ground to a height where he was eye-level with himself.

Allen stared fixedly into his eyes and said slowly: "Who is your master? Where are you taking these captives?"

It could be seen that this Orc was in great pain, his feet kicking wildly, trying to find a support point for himself, and his bound hands waving about randomly. A harsh voice squeezed out of his throat: "Since you dare to touch the tribute the leader sent to the master, the leader will definitely not let you off."

"Who is your leader? Is it Azog? Bolg? Or that fat pig in Orc Town?"

The lifted Orc had a ferocious expression, and the saliva in his mouth dripped onto Allen's hand, but he was still stubborn, saying:

"You don't need to waste your effort asking, because you are all dead. My leader will definitely bring an endless army to find..."

Allen didn't even let him finish his sentence before throwing him to the ground. Seeing this dirty guy breathe rapidly a few times, he began to laugh grimly, with undisguised mockery and contempt in his laughter: "Heh~ heh~ heh~ heh~, be afraid, you scum. You touched the tribute the leader sent to the master. Soon, very soon you will all be killed, captured, and enslaved. The leader will absolutely not let you off."

"Alright, I know that fat pig in Orc Town is your leader, you don't need to say so much."

Just now when Allen said a few names, mentioning Azog and Bolg, this Orc's eyes had no reaction, but as soon as he heard the word "fat pig," the Orc's eyes changed directly, and Allen knew whose subordinate he was.

Allen waved his hand, "Send him on his way."

"Alright, my lord."

Alayen replied, turned around, kicked the Orc lying on the ground up with a heavy kick, and dragged him hard toward the pile of corpses that had already been lit.

"Hoo~~"

Allen, who had sat back down, let out a light breath and looked at the thick clouds in the sky.

"I really hope it doesn't rain."