Lord of the Rings: Warriors

"Clear the obstacles!" 

While the heavy crossbows were in disarray due to the pursuers' relentless attacks, the Royal Guards finally had the chance to clear the corpses blocking their path.

"Quick! Push them off!" 

Hidden behind the shield wall, several Royal Guards thrust their spears under the troll corpses and heaved with all their might, sending the massive bodies tumbling down.

"Get down! Defend!" a sharp voice rang out as one of the guards caught sight of glinting steel flashes in the distance.

Clang!

Thud!

Bang!

Sure enough, in the blink of an eye, three crossbow bolts tore through the air, striking the shield wall with tremendous force. 

The guards behind the shields staggered as the impacted areas quivered violently.

"Damn it! There's no way through!" The guards stationed on the bridge swore angrily.

"Hold steady! Move slowly!" Trapped between advancing and retreating, the Royal Guards could only inch forward, hoping to reach the next troll corpse for cover.

"They're moving forward!" Rynar exclaimed in excitement, pointing at the slowly advancing Royal Guards on the bridge.

"Yeah! Cover them!" Elenthor squinted, renewing her fierce assault on the enemy ballistae.

"The third one down! Four more to go!" The lead Royal Guard wiped the sweat from his brow and exhaled heavily.

"Their attacks are getting fiercer!" The guards could hear the intensifying barrage of bolts outside their shield wall.

"Don't worry! They can't break us! We're a moving fortress of shield walls stacked a hundredfold. 

Unless they bring out a dragon-slaying ballista, they'll never breach our defense—well, unless they push us off the bridge!" The leader's humor lightened the mood of the beleaguered guards.

"Hold steady! Stay vigilant! Our forces are suppressing them; they won't hold out much longer!" The guards roused themselves with renewed morale.

"Damn it! I should've sent the Holy Radiance Knights to charge in one go! 

They wouldn't stand a chance against our knights!" Rynar fumed as he watched the Royal Guards inching forward at a snail's pace on the stone bridge.

"With this narrow space, do you think knights can even charge? 

Without speed, even farmers with pitchforks could knock them off their horses!" Elenthor retorted mockingly, gesturing at the cramped bridge.

"If only a single Nazgûl blocked the entrance, that would be another story…" Omsk grimaced.

"Wait… why aren't you the first ones charging in?" 

Rynar suddenly realized that the sixth-tier combatants, theoretically the most powerful among them, were the ones least likely to spearhead the attack.

"Hey, they're either nobles or kings. They're not going to waste themselves on something as lowly as scouting. 

If the Nazgûl were lying in ambush, no one could withstand a direct assault from three of them at once," Bard explained, pulling Rynar aside and speaking in a low voice.

"Ah…" Rynar froze, finally understanding. These weren't NPCs from The Lord of the Rings video games; they were living, breathing individuals. 

As some of Middle-earth's finest elites, they had their pride and value.

Unlike game NPCs where sixth-tier combatants could be thrown into the fray without a second thought, in reality, such a strategy was nearly impossible unless in a desperate, life-or-death situation. 

Nobles would never willingly sacrifice themselves—they were far too valuable compared to ordinary soldiers.

"King Rynar, we can't risk a frontal charge into the city, knowing the Nazgûl could be lying in ambush," Elenthor explained with a frown.

"Hey, kid, you need to start thinking like a king. War isn't simple arithmetic—it involves countless considerations," Thranduil remarked with a meaningful gaze. 

To him, Rynar's approach was overly impetuous. 

A seasoned ruler would understand that sacrificing a portion of one's forces to achieve a greater goal was often the wisest course of action. 

Personally engaging in the fray was a risk no prudent leader would take—unless absolutely necessary.

"…" Omsk shut his eyes in embarrassment, realizing his lord and king still had the mindset of a small-time leader overseeing just a few hundred men.

"Phew…" Rynar sighed. As someone raised in a peaceful modern era, he struggled to accept such cold, calculated sacrifices—especially when they seemed avoidable.

"We can't wait any longer!" Rynar gritted his teeth, glaring at the swaying shield wall. 

He fully understood how exhausting it was for the heavily armored Royal Guards to endure relentless assaults from ballistae capable of piercing dragon scales. 

If no action was taken, they would be systematically eliminated. 

The enemy at Dol Guldur had grown shrewd, focusing their ballista fire on specific sections of the shield wall. The guards were now only an arm's length from the edge of the bridge.

"Gather the knights!" Rynar shouted to Omsk.

"Your Majesty…" Omsk froze.

"Execute the order!" Rynar's eyes narrowed, emanating a commanding presence that belonged to the King of Zaltarion.

"Knights, assemble!" Omsk roared.

"Knights! Our brothers are trapped on the bridge, unable to advance. Are we going to let the orcs push them off the cliff?"

"No!" The Zaltarion knights of the Holy Radiance Order roared in unison.

"Good! For the honor of the knights—charge!" Rynar raised his dragon-slaying sword, pointing it toward the bridgehead.

"To battle!"

"For the glory of the knights!"

"For Zaltarion!"

"They've gone mad!" Elenthor exclaimed in horror, watching the knights charge onto the narrow stone bridge.

"They're throwing their lives away!" Thranduil's face turned ashen.

"Rynar! You can't do this! You're sending them to their deaths!" Bard shouted furiously at the charging knights.

"Oh, by the beard of Durin!" The dwarves covered their eyes.

"Madmen!" Aranthor whispered.

"Your Majesty… to the end!" Omsk tried to hold Rynar back, but the king, now charging alongside the knights under the Glory Skill, was unstoppable. 

Knowing it was futile, Omsk gritted his teeth and accelerated, overtaking everyone to become the vanguard.

"Vines of the Coiling Serpent!" Rynar suddenly tore open a scroll, releasing a powerful nature-based war spell.

Thick, snake-like vines sprouted from the ground, weaving together across the stone bridge and extending along the knights' path. The vines bypassed the Royal Guards and stretched toward the other side.

"Charge!" Omsk seized the opportunity and surged forward, leading the charge along the vine-covered bridge.

"Push forward! Take Dol Guldur!" Thranduil, stunned by the sudden tactic, was momentarily speechless. A war spell—what audacity!

Clang!

Thud!

A few howling crossbow bolts were effortlessly deflected by the knights in their Glory State. Not even their speed faltered. 

Within seconds, Omsk became the first to set foot on the far side of the bridge, standing at the gates of Dol Guldur.

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