No matter how other people or gods reacted, Sauron's demise represented the complete disappearance of the most fundamental dominance of the strong beasts.
Although the strong orc army in various parts of the Middle-earth continent is still dominant, it is difficult to advance and retreat as before.
They began to fight on their own, unable to take care of each other, and the troops could no longer coordinate with each other.
The battlefield was completely divided.
Lonely Mountain direction.
Borg's army is still struggling to attack the city under the mountain of the dwarves.
Lin was covered in blood, and Bard was not spared either. Although the dwarves and humans were still full of endless fighting spirit, Borg's anger was obviously not so easily eliminated.
They felt exhausted, the sacrifices intensified, and the situation became more unfavorable.
But when Borg personally joined the battlefield, the situation was even more serious.
No one can retreat, this is a country they built with great difficulty, how could it be destroyed so easily?
The fierce battle lasted a full day and night.
From day to night until dawn.
Until the corpses covered the entire basin.
Until blood fills the entire moat.
Until the surrounding vegetation was completely burnt out.
But the war is still the same, it is still cruel, those who stop will fall on this land forever, and no one can breathe for a moment.
Just when everyone was in despair.
A rumbling sound suddenly came from a distance.
That is the voice of Jin Ge.
Immediately following, a group of figures suddenly appeared in the skyline above the valley.
On the eve of the hazy dawn, the golden armor exudes a faint luster, making the darkness of the battlefield fade away.
A horn came from far away.
Is that, the elf army of Mirkwood?
Sorin looked at the army that appeared, with a slightly embarrassed figure and face, and he couldn't help but show a rare reluctant smile.
On the high ground, three figures riding high-headed horses appeared in front of the army.
The three leaders were the elf king Thranduil, and his son, the elf prince, Legolas, Luye, and, of course, the son of the dwarf Rogge, Jin Li.
Thranduil finally let go of his prejudice, of course, this was definitely not his intention.
If it weren't for Legolas's persuasion, if it weren't for the sincere request of the dwarf Jin Li, if it weren't for their sake, he would not have appeared here.
Of course, this is his explanation for himself.
Before the army.
"The elves of the dark jungle, kill all the orcs~!" Thranduil stood still and shouted loudly, waving his long sword, and then his momentum settled, and his long arms waved high, "Kill!"
The cold and harsh voice spread throughout the battlefield.
Next moment,
"Boom!"
Like an unbridled torrent, the army rushed towards the strong beasts.
The strong orcs were shocked, and Borg was also furious, rushing to the front.
But before the slaughter began, an arrow passed in its face.
Legolas rushed up directly.
"Boom!" The battlefield began to collide, and countless screams, tears, and desperate wailing began to converge again.
Gondor direction.
Following the fall of Osgiliath, the army of strong orcs has gathered under the city walls of Minas Tirith.
Countless siege hammers threw huge rocks at this magnificent city built among the mountain peaks.
Countless buildings collapsed, and the city that should have been able to rely on tall city walls and strong city gates to continue to hold on, at this moment, failed to play its due role.
The prime minister of Gondor, Denethor, was sitting in the hall at the moment, constantly ordering his servants to bring food and wine, and stuffed it into his mouth.
He was chewing recklessly, and the bright red wine was mixed with minced meat, mixed with meat scraps, and flowed out from the gap between his withered teeth.
The surrounding attendants watched this scene, but no one dared to come forward and say a word.
Because their prime minister has completely lost his mind, he has become crazy, extreme, or rather, desperate.
If anything is wrong, the person who angers him will be killed.
After losing two sons, he saw with his own eyes the unrivaled strength of the strong orc army under the city.
Denethor was no longer willing to think about it, he was already planning to give up resistance.
Life is hopeless, he has seen his future destiny, so he is eating and drinking, trying to paralyze himself.
"Sir Prime Minister, a soldier suddenly ran in with an eager expression, "The city gate has been smashed, and we can't support it with our mechanism!"
Hearing this, the expressions of everyone present changed in unison.
Denethor finally stopped his hand.
He raised his head, his eyes were numb, and after a while, he said slowly: "Prepare me a bunch of firewood and move it into my bedroom."
"And, take Boromir and Faramir with you."
The bodies of his two sons Boromir and Faramir, no, the heads were returned.
The heads of those Gondor soldiers who had fallen on the front lines were returned.
The strong orcs were very cunning, and threw these things into the walls of Minas Tirith with the riprap, dismantling their confidence.
Although he knew all this, he had no intention of stopping the score.
They... lost.
Denethor walked towards the bedroom on his own, his face numb.