"The blood of a dragon can temper up to 10 ballista bolts before its energy is depleted," Radir explained to Rynar, holding a ballista bolt that looked more like a spear.
The bolt was wrapped in fiery, blood-red veins, giving off a sinister aura—a clear sign of its enchanted nature.
"And how effective is it?" Rynar asked, hoping the steep cost to produce these weapons would at least yield worthy results.
"The effects are quite impressive! It's imbued with tearing magic, burning magic, and piercing magic!" Radir replied, stroking his beard with a grin.
"Tearing magic will rip through anything it hits, whether it's a living being or a structure. Burning magic ignites the target on impact, which is particularly deadly against siege weapons.
Piercing magic can break through defenses, especially designed for high-tier heavily armored units.
In short, even a tier-four heavily armored warrior would not want to be struck by one of these head-on," Radir explained further to Rynar.
"Not bad, not bad at all!" Rynar nodded, satisfied.
Though he had used heavy city-defense ballistae during his time as a lord in the game, he had never fully grasped the potential of this weapon.
Now, seeing it paired with enchanted ballista bolts, Rynar was blown away by its sheer power.
"Alright then, forge a hundred of them," Rynar said, though it pained him to think of the cost.
"What a waste!" Radir sighed as well. Using pure dragon's blood in such a basic way would have made any true alchemist cough up blood in frustration.
...
Woodland Realm, Western Border...
"Patrolling in winter, really?" A group of elves on a border patrol were grumbling amongst themselves.
"Look at this weather... even ghosts wouldn't be out. How could orcs possibly march through the snow to attack the kingdom?"
"I don't understand why we're even bothering to look after those greedy dwarves."
The elves were trudging through the falling snow along the forest's edge.
Beyond the trees lay the perilous Misty Mountains, and this patrol squad was stationed at the furthest outpost of the Woodland Realm.
"The Forest River is even frozen over!" one elf shivered, looking at the icy river.
"Keep sharp. One more round, and we can head back for some fruit wine to warm ourselves," said the lead ranger, adjusting the scimitar on his belt as he led the way.
"This snow is getting thick!" As they trudged through knee-deep snow, the group prepared to turn back.
What they didn't know was that the heavy snowfall was not only slowing down predators but also masking their approach...
"Roar!"
A furious howl erupted, and a mound of snow near the bushes suddenly exploded.
A blast of battle energy melted the snow into water droplets, and a gleaming battle axe shot out, spinning and burying itself in the chest of one elf, flinging him back before tearing him apart mid-air!
The splattering blood stunned the nearby elves, but before they could react, more snow piles burst open, and a barrage of flying axes screamed toward them...
"Ambush!"
The lead elf ranger finally snapped out of it, shouting in terror as he reached for his scimitar.
"Rah!"
A hexagonal war hammer came crashing down, smashing into him with bone-shattering force.
Clang! The beautifully crafted elven scimitar never made it out of its scabbard.
A single stream of blood slowly trickled down the hilt, finally resting on the half-exposed blade...
"Send out the main force!" commanded Bolg, the orc warlord gripping the war hammer.
Behind him, over ten third-tier berserker orcs gathered. They were the ones lying in ambush in the snow, delivering a lethal blow to the elven patrol.
With Bolg, a fifth-tier warlord, leading over a dozen third-tier berserkers, the elven patrol squad of twelve, whose highest rank was merely second-tier, stood no chance against their slaughter...
Even Thranduil could never have imagined that the sentries and patrols he had stationed at the border would be wiped out completely by an orc ambush.
...
"How are things looking?" Elenthor inquired.
"Your Majesty, the situation is dire. The southern parts of Mirkwood have already fallen to the orcs.
Our rangers barely enter the area before they're spotted by patrolling warg riders..." the elf stopped short, unwilling to speak the rest aloud—that it simply wasn't worth risking the lives of their dwindling Star Elf population for this information.
"Hmm, in that case, we should avoid probing too deep from now on," Elenthor nodded, agreeing with his scouts' decision. The Star Elves couldn't afford to lose any more of their already small numbers for these reports.
"Besides, the war's outcome is already set in stone..." Elenthor sighed, dismissing the soldier in front of him. Even if they learned of the orcs' movements or gathering forces, could their allies muster the strength to stop them?
Rubbing his aching temples, Elenthor turned back to his map of the defenses of Loshanier City.
"Ugh... Let's just hope the orcs give us a little more time!" muttered Aranthor as he watched the elven ranger exit Elenthor's quarters, before turning and leaving himself.
...
"Where are Dain and his troops now?" Thorin asked as he stared at Fili in front of him.
"They're a few days out. They've brought a great deal of supplies with them, and Kili is with them. I came ahead to report the news and to ask you to send some men to escort them," Fili reported.
"That's excellent news!" Thorin exhaled in relief. The orc army pressing on Erebor had been suffocating the dwarves within.
"It's just a shame that most of our people haven't returned yet. Otherwise, I would have led the brave dwarven army myself to cut off the heads of those orcs from the north!"
Thorin said with frustration, complaining to his nephew Fili while sitting on his throne.
"Uncle, I heard that King Rynar has already defeated one orc army. Does that mean the southern regions are free from orc threats?" Fili asked.
"How could that be possible? Rynar's forces defeated the orcs of the Wasteland, but the well-armed Dol Guldur orcs are still hiding in the shadows of Mirkwood, waiting to strike a deadly blow!
They won't be able to help us much in this battle," Thorin explained with a smile, clarifying Rynar's predicament.
"Are the elves really reliable?" Fili couldn't help but recall how the elves had refused to aid Erebor in their time of need.
"I've never trusted them," Thorin snorted. Although he had fought alongside the elves during the Battle of the Five Armies, there was still a grudge buried deep within him.
"Let's hope they prove dependable this time." With the elves being one of the few allies in the northern battlefield, Fili could only hope they wouldn't turn a blind eye again.
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